If You were Mine
by ThexInvisiblexGirl
Summary: AU/AH. Bella, an aspiring ballet dancer, and Edward, a prominent musician, have met briefly two years ago. They meet again in Juilliard, and sparks fly. When they finally get together, can a cruel twist of fate tear them apart?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I always told myself I would never ever do a AH **_**Twilight**_** fic, but I guess 'never say never' plays a part in everyone's lives. Here's my first AU/AH fic. Since basically I resent AH fics (yes, even though I'm writing this one lol), I tried to keep the essence of the characters as close to the books as I possibly could. What I did is similar to how vampire gifts work in the saga, I guess. I took traits that are sometimes obvious in the books, sometimes just there, and intensified or parodied them. So if in the book, Bella took ballet lessons as a child, I made her a dancer. You'll see how it works for the rest. POVs alternate between Bella (odd chapters) and Edward (even chapters). Huge thankyou to Mizra who beta-ed the first two chapters – love you lots, hon!**

**I've never studied in Juilliard, and all I know about it comes from a brief read online. I'm twisting the facts here a bit – I know they hold local auditions in various areas in the country, but I had to change that in order to have something to work with here. As far as I know, this is not accurate, but I'm aware of that. This is fiction, and I'm playing with what I can. **

**And after this **_**long**_** introduction – happy reading! I hope you'll enjoy it, and please drop me some comments, because this AH stuff is all new to me and I'd like to know if I'm doing something wrong (or, hopefully, right). **

**Disclaimer: the **_**Twilight**_** characters and any recognizable quote from the saga are the eternal property of Stephenie Meyer. I mean them no harm – I'm only playing. The title is taken from a song under the same name by Julie Atherton. **

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If You Were Mine

**Chapter One – Bella **

The loud shrill of the phone drowned the softer sounds of the piano coming from my stereo. I huffed at the abrupt, unwelcome interruption, straightened up, and then hit 'stop'. It had been going on throughout the afternoon. In a moment, my mom would knock on my door again, telling me there was another call waiting for me. She seemed as surprised as I had been at all this unexpected attention I was receiving. I had never been the popular one at school. In fact, that was quite the understatement. I was practically invisible there. I didn't imagine half of those people even knew my name, until that afternoon. How come they somehow had my phone number, or even bothered to give me a call, was beyond me.

My mom said I was being ridiculous. Juilliard was a big deal. I told her that _she_ was the one who was ridiculous. It was only an audition; I wasn't even in yet. She dismissed me with her know-it-all smile I'd grown to know too well. They were just being nice, that was all. I should just grin and bear it, instead of making a fuss, she said. I should learn to handle a little exposure now if I was planning to make a living out of it. And I knew she was probably right, on both accounts. There was no reason to feel self-conscious. But it was still strange, and awkward. I hardly said two words to some of the people who had called here today; I was surprised they went through all the trouble of finding my phone number.

As I expected, a knock came at the door just as I stretched my arms over my head. "For you again, Bella," my mom informed me, her voice muffled through the closed door.

"Coming," I mumbled, pushing my hair away from my sweaty forehead. I grabbed a towel on my way out.

The hallway was cooler than my room. I heard the quiet hum of the air conditioner. I didn't even realize Mom had turned it on. My room felt stuffy, and I knew it was because of my warm-ups. I groaned inwardly as I ran the towel over my forehead again. It was the last week of May, barely even summertime, and already the temperatures were climbing. It wasn't as hot as it was humid. I left my bedroom door open to let the cold air sip in.

Mom was still in the hallway, and there was this mischievous sparkle in her eyes now that had not been there the last time the phone had rung. She eyed me critically and shook her head in dismay. "Don't look so sulky. Something tells me that this time you might actually want to take the call," she said, smiling sneakily, before she left me alone.

My curiosity ignited in spite of myself. It couldn't be my dad, because I had already spoken to him half an hour ago. Charlie didn't live with us. He and my mom had split when I was a baby, and he lived in a tiny town called Forks up in the state of Washington. From reasons unknown to me, he had preferred it to sunny, warm Phoenix. I hated the cold and rain of Forks even more than I hated the humidity here. Since he and Renée were still on friendly terms, I went to visit him every summer. I smiled now when I thought of his call. He was really excited about my audition. I have never known anyone who went to Juilliard, he said when I had first told him about my plans, right before I'd sent my application a few months ago. Surely I haven't gotten it from _his_ side of the family, he had joked.

Both Charlie and Renée were surprisingly supportive when it came to that whim of mine to become a prima ballerina. Okay, maybe that sounded more dramatic than it really was, but more than anything, I wanted to be a professional dancer, to perform on the biggest stages of Paris and Moscow. It all started years ago, when I was about eight and my mom sent me for ballet lessons because it worked best with her work schedule. I'd be nineteen in September, and I was dancing there still. But I hadn't even considered Juilliard before my ballet teacher brought it up. And then I couldn't _stop_ thinking about it.

Madame Claudine was always like a second mother to me, or a favorite grandmother. Since I hadn't had any grandparents, this arrangement worked perfectly. For a random stranger, she appeared intimidating. I was terrified when my mom walked me into the studio that first day eleven years ago. Madame Claudine looked like an ice sculpture. There wasn't a hint of a smile on her stern face. Her posture was perfect, almost _too_ perfect; not a single hair escaped the tight bun at the nape of her neck. The other girls who were dragged in by their mothers looked equally terrified, but soon we had all learned there was no reason to be scared. Her voice was soft, so much different than her appearance. When she smiled, it was as if the sun somehow managed to invade the dimly-lit studio. Madame Claudine had been my teacher, my mentor, my inspiration. She had helped me so much with my application, and then with putting together my routine for the audition. She was also the first to call here today to wish me luck. More than anything, I hoped I wouldn't let her down.

When Madame Claudine had first brought up the Juilliard idea, I hesitated to tell my mom, because I knew it probably meant money we didn't have. Mom's salary was just enough to provide for the two of us. Of course, my dad would send us money every now and again, but even as the chief at the Forks police station, he had barely had enough to provide for himself. Besides, I knew my mother was too proud to ask him for financial aid if she ever needed it. The money I'd earned from babysitting could hardly help with anything. I wasn't sure how she had expected of me to attend college at all – even the most insignificant ones cost a fortune.

Nonetheless, my mom was amazing about the whole thing. She didn't panic. She said she had some savings just for this purpose – my college fund, she called it – and that if Juilliard was what I wanted, she'd do everything in her power to help me get in. Slightly more cheered up, I realized I could probably get a scholarship if worse came to worse. She cried with me when we got the news about the audition in New York. She was taking three days off so I wouldn't go there alone. I told her time and again she didn't have to do that; I was most definitely able to fly to New York all by myself, but she wouldn't hear of it. And honestly, I was secretly pleased with her decision to come with me. She was my closest friend. I couldn't imagine going through this without her.

I was still smiling as I hurried downstairs, and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Don't be mad. I know you didn't want any fanfare. I just wanted to say good luck."

"Jacob!" I half-gasped in surprise, softening in spite of myself.

As if he had sensed my sudden change of mood, he laughed softly. He had this husky, throaty laughter, one that got right under your skin, and made him sound older than his eighteen years of age. "Hi."

I landed cross-legged on the sofa. "Does your dad know you're calling here? I bet it's costing you a fortune."

"Fine. I'll hang up then."

"_No_!" I said, giggling. Loud clamor rose from the kitchen. My head snapped up at the sound. My forehead cringed in confusion. Was my mom eavesdropping again? I caught her in the act once; she didn't even have the courtesy to appear guilty. It wouldn't surprise me if she was attempting it again.

Jacob's raspy voice brought me back to the here and now. "So, are you excited yet?"

"More scared than excited, to be honest."

"Don't be silly. You'll do great."

"And you're not at all biased, now, are you?" I teased.

"Just a little bit," he laughed. "When are you off to New York?"

"Our flight is at ten tomorrow morning. We're leaving for the airport around seven."

"Good luck," he said again. "Or break a leg, like your people say."

The words sounded foreign and unusual, coming from him. It always made me laugh when he was using theatrical terms. It was so unlike the world he'd lived in, the tiny reservation of La Push near Forks. He made my world sound so glamorous in comparison. "Thanks."

"And… I love you."

"Me too," I replied hastily, blushing even though it was said over the phone. It always had that affect on me, when he told me that. It was silly, really. I had no reason to feel so awkward. Technically we'd been together for two years; I should really be passed the embarrassment by now.

I met Jacob three summers ago, while I was visiting Charlie. His dad Billy and Charlie had been best friends for years, but I had never truly noticed Billy's son until we were forced to spend time together that summer. It wasn't until the following summer when he'd suddenly grown taller, manlier somehow, and I suddenly realized what was between us was more than just friendship.

Charlie was thrilled about me and Jacob getting together. Thankfully, he was too much like me, and he'd never made a big deal out of it in a way that would make me feel uncomfortable, but it was easy to guess he was happy about the whole thing. Renée, on the other hand, was less enthusiastic when she found out about my summer romance. Ever since things with Jake became official, she was trying to talk sense into me, telling me how unhealthy long-distance relationships could be. I always thought it was kind of hypocritical of her to tell me this – _she_, who ran away from Charlie when that relationship had become too much of a burden.

I suspected this time would be no different when I hung up a few moments later, and walked into the kitchen. She was sipping iced tea from a tall glass, pretending to be reading. I rolled my eyes as I caught sight of the book's familiar cover. I knew better. "You can quite the act now, Mom."

"What are you talking about?" she asked in feigned obliviousness.

I nodded towards the book she had just laid face down on the table. "You hate _Pride and Prejudice_," I dryly pointed out, snatching my book from underneath her hand before I took a seat across from her.

"Bella…" she sighed, but didn't continue, as if she didn't know how.

"You haven't even met him," I said quietly, lowering my eyes to the tablecloth. I hated confrontations of any kind. The fact that this one was over my boyfriend – the thought alone made me blush furiously.

"It's not that I don't trust your judgment, honey, because I do – "

"What is it then?"

"I just… I don't like what it does to you."

I raised an eyebrow. "What it does to me?"

"For the passed two years, you've been living for his phone calls. You're grumpy and depressed when no mail arrives, and when you do get a letter from him you're all… lightened up. You can't see him throughout the year, and you don't want me to send you to live with your dad because of your ballet lessons. You need to see other people, people from your area, your school – "

"I don't want to see other people, and I'm graduating in a month."

"So what is the alternative? Spending your summer break on the beach with him? And soon you'll be off to Juilliard and – "

"I haven't even passed the auditions, Mom."

"If it's not Juilliard, it's going to be someplace else," she insisted. From her tone I figured she'd been thinking about this for a while. When she next looked at me, her eyes were earnest. "You can't go back and forth for a guy, Bella, this isn't right."

"It might not be right for you, Mom, but maybe it is for me. I love Jacob – "

"Do you? How can you even know that, considering the last time you've seen him was last Christmas?"

I didn't have an answer for that, but I didn't want to show defeat. "Why do you have to make it so difficult?"

"I just want you to be happy, honey," she said, her tone softening, as she reached across the table to take my hand. "You're off to college now, whether it's Juilliard or wherever. You shouldn't limit yourself – who knows who waits for you there." I rolled my eyes at her slip. She continued speaking, but now her tone was softer, pleading. "You can't depend on someone who lives miles away from where you are."

"Look, I need to go back to practice," I murmured, hardly meeting her eyes. I didn't want to hear this anymore, mostly because I knew she was right. Things with Jacob became serious way sooner than I had expected, but at the time, I didn't care. I was fine with it. I had fun with him. I felt whole around him. He made me smile like no one else could. With him, I could just be myself. I didn't have to pretend. I did feel a bit weird when he first told me he loved me, at the end of that first summer. It felt too hasty, too soon, but before I knew it, I said it too, without knowing whether or not I truly meant it. And ever since, whenever he was telling me he loved me, there was this pang of guilt within me because I could see he meant it with all his heart. I didn't want to hurt him, and I did love him, in a way, but I wasn't sure it was the same way he had done, the way he had expected me to.

So this was how things were. During the school year we exchanged long letters (because the Blacks didn't have a computer), and we would call each other every other weekend or so. I convinced Mom to send me to Forks over Christmas as well, and then on spring break. She didn't protest, but I could tell she wasn't pleased. I knew it wasn't because she minded I'd see Dad, but because she didn't approve of my relationship with Jacob. I kind of hoped that seeing him more often would help me figure things out, make things more definite for me, but each time on the flight home, I just felt more confused. And to make things worse, each time, Mom saw right through me, and I hated to let her know that she was right.

Things _could_ be different now, if I let them, I thought as I closed my bedroom door behind me. The room was colder now and I shivered. I didn't know if I'd even get to see Jake this summer; I couldn't make any plans until I'd have a final answer from Juilliard. And if I wasn't going to Forks for the summer, we wouldn't see each other for a very long time. According to my mom's theories, now was the best time to wrap things up. Jacob was about to start his last year in high school. He wasn't bad-looking; it was inevitable girls would be interested in him. He shouldn't shut himself out because I was miles away. It didn't seem fair to limit him that way.

And then I realized I was sounding like my mother, only I projected what she had told me on him. But it applied to both sides, really. He shouldn't be limited, and neither should I. The wisest, most sensible thing was to just end it. If I were smart, I should just break up with him.

But let's say, for argument's sake, that I wasn't smart.

I didn't want to break up. Of course, what we had currently had wasn't much of a 'together' to begin with, but the definition still held. It was selfish and cruel, but breaking his heart that way seemed even worse. I did love him; I'd learn to love him the way he wanted me to. If I ended it now, I'd always regret it, be forever tormented by the what-if's and should-have's.

I sighed. I was being ridiculous, really. I just needed to see him. I knew that once I did, all the doubts and uncertainties would melt away. It was easier when my mom wasn't around to preach me, either, when my dad was actually encouraging this relationship instead of trying to talk me out of it. I couldn't wait to get there, whenever that would be. When my dad had asked me earlier when I planned to come over this year, I'd said I didn't know yet. At the moment, I just wanted to get this audition over with. Then afterwards finals, graduation, Jacob. And then I'd prove Renée wrong.

xoxox

New York City was just as I imagined it to be – dazzling and crowded and enormous, so much bigger than Phoenix. I spent most of the night next to the window in our hotel room, just looking down at the hustling streets of the city that never slept. I was exhausted; it'd been an incredibly long day, and I had to wake up early the next morning to warm up properly before the audition. And yet, I was too giddy to even try and get some sleep. I looked at the twinkling streetlights beneath me and felt my lips curl into a small smile. I was actually there, where I'd wanted to be. This might be the place I'd spend the next four years in. It all depended on the next day.

Despite my massive lack of sleep, I was surprisingly composed the next morning. In fact, my mom looked more nervous than I did, judging by the way she was fidgeting on the sidewalk next to me. She didn't stop chattering from the moment we left our hotel room, and _that_ made me edgy. At some point I started thinking that maybe such serenity on my side was wrong. Maybe I _should_ panic. But there was no reason to. Every ounce of me was ready for this audition. My music was here, my routine memorized to perfection. Normally I wouldn't be as confident about my dance. Well, maybe not under-confident, but I was still very shy. I was only truly comfortable while I was onstage, where I couldn't see people's critical faces while blinded by spotlights. But I'd worked my ass off to get here, and I did. I was as ready as I'd ever be.

"Look at all these people! It's like an episode of _Fame_!" my mom exclaimed, nearly bumping into someone's cello. I managed to pull her out of the way just in time. "Are they all auditioning today?"

"I'm pretty sure musicians have a separate audition," I said, giving my name to a pretty girl by an improvised reception desk before I rushed to the bathroom to change. Mom had found us seats by the time I caught up with her. Waiting was the most frustrating part of this sort of auditions. I sort of wished I'd had a book with me, but I knew I was too tense to focus anyway. I looked over the room. Of course, there was no way I'd know anyone, but you never knew. No one looked overly familiar though. I was glad my mom insisted to come with me. It could have been scary to be there alone. The hallway was in chaos, a cacophony of chatter and musical instruments. Dancers were warming up all over the place. The sounds and movements were making me dizzy. Every once in a while, a severe-looking woman in a navy blue suit would come out and read this name or that, singling out someone from the crowd to follow her in.

I let my eyes wander after Sue Dawson who had just walked in for her audition, and my gaze fell on a small girl at the other side of the hall. It wasn't difficult to guess that she was a dancer. She wore a generic black dancing outfit similar to mine, and still she managed to stand out despite her tiny form. Her hair was cut short, and her eyes had a pretty almond shape that made her look elfish, like a pixie almost. She was deep in conversation with another girl in black, whose blonde hair was twisted into a sophisticated plait. She was tall, much taller than the small, dark girl. Her face was exquisite – fair complexion, high cheekbones. She looked Russian, a true ballerina. I eyed them both with apprehension, thinking of my own not so striking features. I was so plain in comparison, average in every possible way – height, hair, eyes, dancing skills…?

What the hell was I doing here?

"Isabella Swan?"

I blinked, jolting out of my daydream. My mom stuck her elbow in my side. "Here," I said, my voice trembling slightly, as I stood up. From the corner of my eye, I saw the pixie-like girl looking curiously in my direction. I saw recognition in her eyes, although I couldn't possibly tell if I'd seen her before, or where.

"You're next."

"Go and dazzle them, honey," my mom whispered, and gave me a quick hug. "I'll be right here."

I couldn't reply, because suddenly I was terrified. More than anything, I wanted to go in there and stun them, to give everything into my routine and nail this audition, but now, looking at all those people around me, second thoughts hit me full force. They all looked so professional, so talented. How did I fit in? Was I able to do this?

Silently, I followed the woman into the smoky darkness of the auditorium.

There was only one way to find out.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hi everyone, thanks so much for the comments, I really appreciate them – they mean a lot! Here's the second installment… Edward's turn! Happy reading, and please keep up the reviews!**

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Chapter Two – Edward

"Here – this should be – about – everything," Emmett panted, dropping the last of my luggage on the parquet floor. Then he collapsed on the closest sofa, wheezing; slightly over dramatic for someone who had been practicing weightlifting for the last ten years or so.

Apparently Rosalie, his wife of two years, shared my thoughts. She rolled her eyes at him as she took a few sodas out of the fridge, one for each of us. The kitchen was adjoined to the living room; only a counter separated them. She kicked the fridge shut with her foot and crossed the room towards us. "What's the matter, Em? Too heavy for you?" she teased him, smiling sweetly. She winked at me as she handed me one of the drinks.

"Maybe I'm just getting old," he fired back before he pulled at her arm. She fell onto his lap with a yelp.

"_Ew_, let me _go_, you're all sweaty!" she giggled.

"You love it," he murmured in what I assumed he considered his sexiest tone, before he began nuzzling her neck.

She burst into a fresh fit of giggles as she squirmed and tried to get away from his grip. "Stop it, you jerk, you're embarrassing your brother!"

To be honest, he wasn't. Not really. I was used to that kind of behavior with my older brother. He and Rose were sickeningly sweet together, even after two years of marriage. It was as if someone had forgotten to tell them the honeymoon was over. In big family reunions we all used to tease them mercilessly about it, and pretend to be horrified with their public display of affection, especially my cousin and I, but I didn't really mind. Rosalie brought out a softer side in Emmett, one which none of us even suspected had existed.

The funniest thing was that they were so different. Tall and blonde like an exquisite porcelain doll, Rosalie looked like a fairytale princess who got stuck in the twentieth century by mistake. She was a musician, and she preferred her cello to the grand piano in their apartment in New York City. Emmett was big and muscular, and looked like the wrestler he had always dreamt of being. And still, I had never met a couple as perfect as these two. Love worked in funny ways sometimes. As cliché as it sounded, Emmett and Rosalie were meant for one another.

"Ah, well. Later then," said Emmett, raising his eyebrows suggestively, as he grabbed the soda from her hand.

I smirked and looked around me, at what was to be my home for the upcoming year. I still couldn't believe how fast time had gone. I was about to begin my second year in the music division at Juilliard in September. I spent my first year at the school's lodgings like first year students should. I was counting the days and hours until I could leave that tiny apartment, where I didn't even have a piano to properly practice on. There was about a month until the end of the semester, and it felt like forever. I liked my roommate, but I longed for my own space.

I was exceptionally lucky. I didn't even have to search for an apartment in the city like most of my classmates had. Rosalie got a job at the Los Angeles Orchestra and she and Emmett were relocating to the West Coast for the year. Emmett was about to begin his masters in psychology and sports studies in UCLA. I was supposed to move in with them anyway, since they had a spare room, but the new arrangement was even better. I wouldn't have to feel uncomfortable for invading their privacy, and they could sleep well at night knowing their apartment was well taken care off in their absence.

We spent the weekend moving most of my things into their apartment. It was the beginning of what was going to be a busy summer. I wasn't looking forward to most of it, honestly. I was grateful for Rosalie, a Juilliard graduate of two years, who got me a job there. I was to play in the auditions of the dance division in a few weeks. It was only for a week or so, and I wished it could have been for longer so I could have a proper excuse not to attend our annual family reunion at home. Every summer, my parents would throw a party, and it was kind of big deal, especially now when we also celebrated Emmett and Rosalie's anniversary. In the past few years, though, attending the party had become a burden. It wasn't that I didn't want to see my parents, because I hadn't seen them since Christmas and I missed them. No, I dreaded family reunions from a completely different reason.

I'd always known I was going to be a musician. It wasn't typical for young children, to know what their future would be. When I was in elementary school, I had a friend who wanted to be a pilot one day and an astronaut in the other. But not me. Music had always been my passion. I had taken piano lessons from a very young age, and taught myself the more complicated compositions, the ones they had never taught kids my age. My parents didn't mind. Both of them had always respected our choices. When Emmett and I were little, they used to tease us and say that it would be okay with them even if we decided to work in a zoo in Australia or whatnot. Whatever made us happy, they had said. My mother Esme was the artist in the family, and so she had supported me wholeheartedly. My father, Carlisle, said I could be whatever I chose to be, that he had faith both in me and in my brother.

It was his father, my grandfather, who had resented my choice of profession. My dad was a third generation of doctors in the Cullen family, and Emmett and I were expected to follow suit. Emmett wasn't given as much trouble as I had been. Physiology was part of his degree, and I assumed my grandfather thought it was close enough to medicine. He was given the cold shoulder when he and Rosalie – also a musician – made things official, but my grandfather's resentment was short-lived. We had always suspected he had secretly liked Rosalie. He almost got a heart attack when he had heard I had been accepted into Juilliard. He had hardly spoken with my cousin Alice last Christmas when he had discovered she had meant to follow me into school this upcoming year.

I hated the thought of letting my grandfather down. He was one of the most important people in my life as I was growing up. Most of my musical education came from him. It was ironic, really. It was partly thanks to him I decided to seriously engage in music, and now he resented me because of my decision. My dad said I shouldn't mind him. My grandfather could be a little narrow-minded; it worsened with old age. But it was more than that. I could see the disappointment in his eyes whenever he looked at me, and it hurt. I wanted him to be proud of me. I respected his opinion as much as I did my own parents'. I wished he could at least try to understand.

So this was why I was less than thrilled to attend my parents' party in August. I suspected that this year would be no different, if not worse. And yet, I was also anxious to see them all. My parents; our pug, Sophie, my cousin Alice. I smiled when I thought about her. I would see her in a few weeks regardless, when she came to her audition. She was a magnificent dancer, the best I'd ever seen. She was about my age, my cousin on my mother's side. When we were kids, she, Emmett and I had been inseparable. We still were. I hadn't seen her for months, and although we kept in touch the best we could with emails and texts and random postcards, I was looking forward to her visit.

"What is it, Edward?" Rosalie's soft voice put an end to my musings. I blinked and met her gaze. There was laughter in her eyes. "Second thoughts?"

"About spending the next year in your filthy apartment?" I teased. Their apartment was anything _but_ filthy. Walking in there was like stepping into a _Home & Gardens_ photoshoot. Everything was immaculate, and perfectly in place. Interior design was Rosalie's passion, second only to her music. Aesthetic wasn't Emmett's strongest trait, but Rosalie had kept their place spotless. Only yesterday I witnessed her catching Emmett as he sat with his legs propped against the glass coffee table. He was distracted by some random show on ESPN, and so he didn't notice her approach.

"Legs down, Emmett," was all she said. Her vicious glare did the rest. I got goosebumps from her icy tone alone.

So did Emmett, apparently. His legs were down in a split second. He lowered his head like a reprimanded schoolboy, and murmured something that sounded like 'sorry, Rose'. I smiled now when this memory floated, lighter than any of my other grim thoughts.

"No, I was thinking about Alice, actually."

"Too bad we're going to miss her visit," Rosalie said, shaking her head sorrowfully. "It could be fun."

"You'll see her at mom and dad's party." Alice had always spent most of the summer vacation in Forks with us. She was an only child, so when we were younger, it was easier for her mom to drop her at our place during the summer, where she could spend time with us. The Brandons lived in Seattle, and her parents thought she'd get into less trouble in a small town than in a city as big as Seattle. Nothing could go wrong in Forks, they believed. They thought it was worth the long drive back and forth, and we were all glad that they did. It worked in everyone's favor.

Emmett sighed, and for a moment I thought it was in response to what I'd said. When an idle grin curled on his lips, I realized my mistake. "Just imagine," he said, his grin widening. "When Alice is accepted to Juilliard, she'll have all those hot friends and you can invite them over here…" But he didn't have a chance to complete the thought when a stuffed cushion flew in his direction. While it was impossible to detect from her appearance, Rosalie was actually a good shot. Her aim was perfect; the cushion hit Emmett's head before it fell to the floor. "For _him_, not for me! I'm not into dancers!"

His voice soon faltered, as if he realized how far fetched it sounded. Rosalie rolled her eyes. "Speaking of hot friends, Edward, Teena is still waiting for you to call her," she said.

Ever since she'd become my sister-in-law, Rosalie had made it her purpose to set me up with her classmates. Teena Williams was her most recent attempt, and the most unsuccessful one. I shuddered inwardly. Teena was witty and intelligent, and we spent a nice evening together, but something about her was just too striking for my taste. I would never admit it to Rose, but I was sort of intimidated by her.

"I've been busy," I murmured, looking away from Rosalie. Her tone was casual and non-caring, but her eyes were pinning me with that intense gaze of hers, the one I had been trying to avoid whenever I could help it.

"I thought you liked Teena," she reproached me.

"What's not to like?" Emmett muttered, ducking against a second cushion just in time.

"It's not that I didn't like her, Rose. It's just that…"

"It's just that glamorous blondes are not his type," Emmett interjected. "It's totally not his thing. His thing is more like… the girl next door; a brunette, a bookworm, a Jane Austen lover."

I did a double take. "Do you even know who Jane Austen is, Emmett?" I asked, still gawking at my brother. The last time I checked, he thought _Hamlet_ was the name of a hero in an action film on the AXN channel.

"Sure I do," he replied, dismissing my amazement. "She's the chick who directed _Gone with the Wind_, isn't she?"

I stared at him for a second. His expression was unreadable; I couldn't decide if he was joking or if he actually meant it. "Uh… sure, Emmett, that's the one."

"Well, why didn't you say so in the first place? I wouldn't have wasted my time finding the hot ones," Rosalie laughed. I was relieved that she wasn't offended by my rejection. She couldn't help the company she'd kept. She was gorgeous; of course her friends would be equally attractive. She sighed dramatically and laid a hand against my shoulder. "What _are_ you going to do without us this year?"

"Gee, I don't know. Ruin my social life?" I joked. Not that I had much of those to begin with. Practicing the piano had become a major pastime. Since I didn't have an available piano at school, in the past year I'd spent almost every afternoon at Emmett and Rosalie's place where I could practice for hours, uninterrupted.

"Give Teena a call, and you'll be redeemed," Rosalie backfired, and then turned her back on us and disappeared down the hall.

xoxox

"Edward, order's ready!" The girl at Starbucks called, and smiled at me as I picked the plastic cups from the counter. I returned her smile; she wished me a nice day.

"God, Edward, who knew that you could be so irresistible? Did you see the way she was checking you out?"

I rolled my eyes. So typically Alice. Wordlessly, I handed her her vanilla latte and watched her as she added sugar into it and stirred it. I blew over mine. I didn't get much sleep the night before; I never got proper sleep with Alice around. I needed to keep my focus this morning. "Will there ever come a time when you and Rose quit with the matchmaking?" I wondered aloud.

"Yes," she beamed at me. "When we will think you can do better on your own."

"Thanks for your support, Munchkin. It's so nice when your family has faith in you."

Somehow, she managed to look graceful even with her face screwed into a frown. "Don't call me that."

I opened the café's door for her. "Why not? It fits you perfectly."

"If you ever call me that on school grounds, I'll make sure everyone knows who your favorite Smurf was."

I snorted and sipped my coffee. It burnt its way down my throat. "Listen to her, talking as if she's already been accepted."

"Didn't I tell you? I can see the future. _Of course_ I'll be accepted!"

I had to run to keep up with her as she danced the rest of the way to school.

xoxox

I held back a yawn and flipped through the score in front of me. I was looking forward for this job, but now, three days into the audition week, it just got tedious. It was probably due to my massive lack of sleep, which I blamed Alice for. I was hardly paying attention to the auditions as they were taking place. Most of the dancers weren't much to look at, anyway. I didn't know what time it was – time as I knew it ceased to exist in this bare auditorium. Only the renewing supply of coffee and water for the judge committee, brought in every half an hour or so, marked the time. I needed coffee desperately, but I couldn't leave my place on stage. And none of the judges had offered me a cup, so I just swallowed my resentment and flashed a polite smile at the next dancer in a black who handed me her score.

I was playing on auto-pilot. My fingers flew on the keys mechanically. I hardly saw the notes or heard the music. It was routine, and good practice. I was grateful for the opportunity to prove myself in front of the members of the staff. It never hurt your reputation, in a place like this.

God, what kind of a summer vacation is this? I should be on Ellis Island, or on the beach in Boston, or surfing at First Beach at home with Emmett, not rotting in some dimly-lit auditorium with wannabe prima ballerinas who didn't know left from right. Increasingly, I was becoming very frustrated. This week seemed to be going on forever.

"Isabella Swan."

I raised my head from the keys, squinting against the darkness, as my gaze focused on the girl who followed Miss Sheldon on stage. The name pulled me out of my boredom. It had a familiar ring to it. I was sure I'd heard it before, but I couldn't remember where or when.

"Good afternoon, Miss Swan. Hand your music to Edward there and we could start."

Before I knew it, she was in front of me, and I made the connection. She was Chief Swan's daughter. The last time I'd seen her was two years ago, but she had hardly changed at all. She handed me the score with a tight smile. I felt my lips curl into an involuntary smile in reply. "Good luck," I murmured. She mumbled a quick 'thank you' and walked to the center of the stage. I couldn't help but stare after her. I had never seen anyone who had carried herself with more grace than she did, not even Rosalie. Her hair was tied in a tight bun at the nape of her neck. It made her dark brown eyes look huge. I idly wondered how she would look with her hair down, tumbling down her back, framing her face in soft brown ringlets –

Someone cleared his throat at the third row. "Whenever you're ready, Mr. Cullen."

Embarrassed, I arranged her score in front of me. I hoped she didn't notice me observing her. I nodded towards her as if to ask she was ready; she still looked tense, but she nodded in reply. I plunged into the first notes of the composition – it was one of my favorites. For the first time today, I was actually paying attention to the audition and not only the notes. She was very good. She moved as if she was one with the music, as if she was born to do this. Her routine was simple, free of pretensions or presumptions. She didn't need a complicated piece to show how good she was. It was there in her every movement. The only one who could dance as well as her was Alice, and it wasn't just because I was biased. Either you were born to be a dancer, or you weren't.

Apparently, Isabella Swan was.

I should have guessed she was a dancer though, I thought, reminiscing to that warm evening in August when I had first noticed her, in Emmett and Rosalie's wedding. She didn't even dance that evening, but there was something in the way she moved, this fluidity of motion. I remembered every bit about her from that time, basically since I couldn't take my eyes off her all evening. I remembered the exact color of her dress, the way her hair fell softly down her shoulders, the dimple in her cheek when she smiled. For weeks I was beating myself up for not getting up the courage to ask her to dance that evening. It had been a while before her image had completely vanished from my mind.

And now she was literally dancing back into my life.

I was sure she would pass the audition. I might not have paid close attention, but I looked enough to know she was one of the best dancers on this stage in the past three days. I stole a glance at the judges at the third row. They looked impressed. Mr. Collins, by far the toughest of the five, leaned over to whisper something in his Mr. Rogers' ear. The shorter man nodded in what looked like restraint enthusiasm. As if they didn't want to appear too eager in her presence.

Slowly, the music drifted to a close. Her ending was beautiful; I found myself transfixed once more. There was a moment of silence before any of the judges spoke. "That was very nice, Miss Swan. Thank you," said Mr. Collins. "Miss Sheldon will show you out."

"Thank you, sir," she said, and disappeared at the wings. I realized a second too late she'd forgotten her music.

"Well, gentlemen?"

"Definitely in," said Mr. Rogers. I held myself back from cheering aloud.

"I vote for a break," a female voice said. I recognized it as Mrs. Anderson's. "If I don't get real coffee now, I might not survive the afternoon auditions," she laughed. Then she threw a glance in my direction. "Fifteen minutes, Mr. Cullen."

I sprang out of my seat. I knew it was stupid and idiotic, an impulsive whim, but suddenly I wanted nothing more than running after her. I didn't know what came over me. I was never that courageous when it came to girls. I didn't have enough guts to speak to her when I had first seen her two years ago. But this was too much of a coincidence, too good a chance to lose. I didn't even know how I was going to find her. If this audition round was anything like the one I'd taken part in the year before, the hallways would be in chaos.

I was luckier than I thought. Just when I stepped out of the auditorium, I saw her at the other end of the hallway, loosening her hair. I stopped dead on my tracks; luckily everyone was too preoccupied to notice me. Her hair was longer than I remembered, and looked so soft I found myself wondering how it would feel like to thread my fingers through it. She looked around, as if she was looking for someone. _Was_ she looking for someone? I didn't know, but I thought I'd take the opportunity as long as I had it.

And so I made my way towards her, and called her name.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: some Bella/Jacob ahead, apologies in advance. i hope you like it regardless - reviews/comments are still LOVE :)****

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**Chapter Three – Bella**

"Isabella Swan?"

I tensed instinctively at the sound of my name, although I found it strange, to be summoned back in there when I had just been dismissed. I felt my heart begin to soar again. Dizziness washed over me. My mind was working furiously as for why I would be called in there again. I must have done something wrong. I went over my routine in my head. It felt as if I did it well. I didn't forget anything.

Or did I? What if I screwed up my chances just because I missed a beat or something? What if they called me in to tell me my audition was disgraceful and unless I did it again, I didn't have the slightest chance to get in? I didn't think I'd be able to take it if that were to be the case. One nerve-wrecking experience was enough for a lifetime.

But upon looking back, it wasn't one of the judges who hurried towards me.

He looked my age, but much taller. He was practically towering over me when he caught up with me. He had on black jeans and a gray dress shirt. His eyes, emerald green, bore into mine with strange recognition. "You _are_ Isabella Swan, aren't you?" he asked, uncertainty sneaking into his voice.

I recognized him now. He was the guy who had just played in my audition. "Bella," I corrected him out of habit, my mind working furiously as for why he would follow me out of the auditorium, and why he would remember my name.

He ran his hand through his tousled bronze hair with what seemed like discomfort. "I thought I recognized you. You probably don't remember me. I'm Edward Cullen, my dad works at the hospital in Forks."

I did remember him, I suddenly realized. I attended his brother's wedding two years ago. I was visiting Charlie that summer and he was invited, and I decided to tag along because he seemed uncomfortable about showing up there alone. It was a gorgeous wedding, a hazy recollection of pinks and whites and the lake at dusk. I knew Dr. Cullen, of course – everyone had. I'd met his son briefly during that wedding, though, then a lanky boy of eighteen. Like the wedding itself, the memory was indistinct. I saw nothing but Jacob that summer.

"You forgot your score," he said, bringing me back into the bustling hallway. I didn't know what he was on about until he handed me a stack of papers. Only then I realized that I _had_ walked out without taking my music. Ugh, how humiliating. I hoped none of the judges had noticed how eager I'd been to leave. I murmured a quick 'thank you' as I took it from him and glanced up at him. He was watching me, his expression unreadable. "I didn't know you danced," he said.

"I hope I didn't make an idiot out of myself in there." I was still kind of worried my previous concerns would come true. Not to mention now, with leaving my music behind.

"You were one of the best in there today. Trust me, I've been playing in these auditions for a while, I can tell when the judges are impressed."

I could feel the blood rush to my cheeks. I'd never known how to take compliments. "Thanks, I guess." Then I considered his last statement. "Is this a summer job or are you actually going to school here?"

"I'm starting my second year in September." The music division, I figured. "Rosalie, my sister-in-law, is a Juilliard graduate. She got me the job."

From the corner of my eye, I noticed my mom rushing towards me, and I was surprised when a sudden pang of disappointment hit. What were the odds I'd run into someone from Forks, here of all places? A part of me wanted to stay there and chat with him, ask if he'd seen my dad recently and how his brother was doing, but I was reluctant to introduce him to my mom. Not when she was still preaching me about the disadvantages of long distant relationships. She'd see this as a golden opportunity, no doubt, and I was determined to avoid that discussion now. I smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, I have to go."

He returned my smile. My heart skipped a beat in spite of myself. "I should probably go back anyway." There was a hint of reluctance in his voice. "It was nice to see you again," he said and his cheeks colored. It was nice to know blushing wasn't just my own weakness. "And good luck."

My smile got an inch wider. It was impossible not to return his smile, with the way his eyes were leering at me. "Thanks," I said, turning to go. I caught up with my mom then, and answered her questions mechanically. Luckily, she didn't notice me talking to him. She kept going on and on about what happened in the auditorium, whom she had been talking to during my absence, and what she had thought my chances were, merely from seeing the other girls outside.

Relief surged through me when I realized I didn't have to go back in there for a second audition, after all. I must have done something right, despite my previous concerns. Suddenly the room felt incredibly stuffy. I just wanted to get out.

When I looked back into the hallway before we left, he was still watching me, his gaze piercing even from a distance.

xoxox

In July, I decided to spend a few weeks with my dad at Forks. I still hadn't heard a word from Juilliard by then. I tried not to think much of it. Maybe it just wasn't meant to be, I told myself over and over again, and it seemed to have worked. I tried not to be overly disappointed, because honestly, thinking back of it, what chance did I really have against that stunning Russian girl I saw at the hallway, against her friend, the little pixie? I was just… ordinary. And apparently, ordinary wasn't Juilliard material.

My mom said I was being silly, that these things took time. Madame Claudine sided with her and said that she refused to believe they'd give up someone as skilled as I had been. Either way, I was tired of waiting. It was nerve-wrecking. It made me anxious and I didn't want to spend my entire summer sitting by the phone or listening to the mailman as he dropped our post outside. I didn't even care if I was accepted or not. This was why I decided to leave Phoenix for a while. It got to a point where I only needed a distraction.

My plane landed at dusk, and my dad came to the airport straight after his shift. Charlie was all but married to his work. I teased him once that he probably used his uniform as pajamas when he ran out of clean clothes. But there was something comforting in seeing him wear his work jacket. I embraced the familiarity of it. After giving me an awkward bear hug and asking how I was doing, he eyed me critically. "Doesn't your mom feed you in Phoenix? I swear you're getting skinnier every time I see you."

I rolled my eyes. It wasn't a very Charlie thing to say. Usually he hadn't been that observant, and when he'd shown concern, it had never done so explicitly. But it was nice to know he cared, in his own strange way. "I have to watch myself because of my dancing, Dad. It's fine. Don't worry about it."

"Any word from Juilliard yet?" he asked, reaching for my luggage. I let him have my small suitcase. I kept my backpack thrown against one shoulder.

"Unless they called while I was on my way, which I imagine they hadn't or Mom would have called you to tell you already, then no." The disappointment in his eyes caught me off-guard. I wasn't expecting him to care that much, too. One more person to let down, if I didn't pass the audition. I sighed. I wished everyone would just let it go. "I'd really rather not talk about it, Dad."

His eyes were grave as he searched my face. "They'll call, honey," he said quietly. My heart twitched in a sudden pang of guilt. I should never have underestimated him. He cared just as much as Renée had done. I felt myself softening. It was as if my defenses dropped at once. As if he sensed it too, he took my hand shyly and squeezed it in his. "Give it time."

We were out by then. Dark storm clouds hung low in the sky, so low you could nearly see their texture. This was normal weather at Forks; thick fog and a sky on the verge of explosion. I knew it meant it would be pouring with rain soon. I frowned and put my cardigan on. It always felt as if summer had skipped this town on a yearly basis. I hope we'd make it to Charlie's place in one piece, and preferably dry.

I could see my dad's police cruiser, parked in the airport's small lot. Someone was leaning against it, and it was too dark to make out the figure at first. I thought it was strange, and I was about to point it out. But then he saw us and straightened up, a huge grin curling on his lips, and that was all I needed. I sprang from my dad's side straight into Jacob's waiting arms. He nearly toppled backwards with the intensity of my leap as I threw my arms around him.

"Hey, do I know you?" he laughed, his arms slowly tightening around my waist.

I just stood there for a moment, reveling at the safety of his embrace. I stuck my face between the folds of his jacket and breathed him in. Relief surged through me at the realization nothing had changed. There was always this dread on the way here that my mom had been right all along, that I'd arrive and find something different than I thought I'd left behind. But as had always been the case, my anxieties dissipated the moment he wrapped his arms around me. He was still there, he was still mine, and he still missed me as much as I missed him.

Someone cleared his throat over my shoulder. I tensed when I suddenly remembered Charlie was still there. He'd caught up with us by then, and he was watching us uncomfortably. I pulled away from Jacob, blushing madly now. It was getting increasingly darker, so I hoped neither of them had noticed. Charlie was thrilled about us being together, as long as we kept that kind of behavior away from him. I threw him an apologetic look, and turned to face Jacob again. "What are you doing here?"

His eyes were gleaming as he opened the car door for me, as if he didn't mind Charlie's abrupt interruption. He looked as happy as I felt. "I wanted to come and pick you up, but my dad said it wouldn't be polite to ditch Charlie, so I asked Charlie if it was okay I'd tag along."

"Look at you, learning to compromise," I teased. I got a chance to ruffle his hair before he closed the door on me, pouting. He hated it when I'd done that. I gave him a look through the rearview mirror. "You're growing up, Jake."

The way home was quiet, as if they both assumed I'd be too tired to talk. I leaned back in my seat and watched the familiar view of the small town as it quickly passed through the windows. As I closed my eyes, I suddenly remembered meeting Edward Cullen, Dr. Cullen's son, in my audition a few weeks back. I wondered if he was in town, too. I didn't know too much about his summer job, but I assumed he was only playing in the auditions. He probably came to visit his parents before the beginning of school. I remembered my dad telling me how close the Cullens had been. They did everything together. They'd thrown a huge party at the end of each summer, and it had always been a big deal in the otherwise dozy Forks. I figured it must have been really tough for Edward's parents, to have both their kids so far away from them. I meant to say something about meeting him, but the only sound that came out was a husky murmur.

"Is she awake?" I heard Jacob ask from the backseat. "Bella?"

I blinked, and the motion confused me. I didn't remember closing my eyes. The inside of the car slowly swam into focus. "Did I fall asleep?" I asked, sitting up. The safety belt prevented me from stretching properly. I sank back in the seat and yawned.

Jacob laughed in reply. "Yeah, silly; about five minutes after we left the airport. I bet you're worn out."

"We'll be home soon," Charlie said, glancing at me with concern. "You should eat something too."

"Dad, I only just got here, don't start overfeeding me." Not that I saw how he would. Charlie was an even worst cook than my mom. Learning how to cook had become a necessity, with these two.

Charlie ignored me and looked in the rearview mirror. "Don't you think she looks too skinny, Jake?"

"We've got enough time to have some meat on her bones, don't worry, Charlie."

"Hey, you're supposed to be on _my_ side," I complained.

"I don't want troubles with your dad," he joked.

"Humph," I grumbled, pouting. It didn't have the desired impact; I heard Jacob snort in the backseat. I leaned back and closed my eyes.

Soon I was fast asleep again, or I thought I was, because I was beginning to see things. Most of them were vague shadows, except for one image. There was a voice, too, Jacob's voice, but it wasn't his image that floated clearer than all the others, but that of a tall boy with auburn hair and emerald eyes. As much as I tried to shake Edward Cullen's image off, he lingered there persistently, until he finally faded as I slowly came to when Charlie stopped the car. I reached out to stop him from fading, but my fist closed on nothing but air. I opened my eyes, meaning to protest against the sudden emptiness, and found my dad stare at me with that strange concern again.

I stole a glance at the car as I followed my dad inside the house. I couldn't understand this dismay that hit me full force at his absence. His image was too tangible for it not to be real. But its disappearance was so abrupt, _too_ abrupt; I told myself I probably hadn't seen him at all.

xoxox

The following week was just what I had been hoping for, minus the rain. I started each morning jogging all the way to the hospital and back. It wasn't much fun with the rain and the fog and the way I'd get home all messed up with my hair sticking to my face, but it felt necessary. I turned Charlie's living room into a temporary studio and did as much practice as I could, under the circumstances. Keeping in some shape was better than none, and I had promised Madame Claudine I would.

Aside for my ballet practice, I'd spent every waking hour with Jacob at the reservation. When it wasn't raining we went hiking in the nearby forests. We spent some time on the beach, but it was too cold so mostly we gave it up. The rest of the time, we hung out in his garage while he was working. My dad often joined us for dinner, occasionally picking up pizza on his way from the station. When he didn't, Billy cooked pasta for all of us, and Jacob and I helped. Overall there was very little to do in Forks. I didn't think I'd manage to actually live there if I had to, but with my departure date all set, I was having a great time.

It was during my second week there that Jake and I went in from the garage to make some sandwiches for lunch, when Billy wheeled himself into the kitchen. He smiled at me. "Bella, you missed Charlie's call by about eight minutes. Give him a call to the station, will you?"

"Is he okay?" I asked, halfway to the phone. It was an odd request for my dad to make, and I didn't like bothering him at work unless it was absolutely necessary.

"Oh, yeah, yeah, he's fine. Just… call him, honey." I could see he was trying to compose his expression, but there was still this shadow of a smile at the corner of his lips, one he seemed unable to hide. It wasn't like Billy to be so enigmatic. I wondered what he was up to when I waited for Charlie to pick up.

"Bella," Charlie said as soon as I said it was me. There was strange urgency to his voice; I didn't like it.

"Dad? Billy asked me to call you, is everything okay?"

"Fine. Listen, your mom just called me." But before I had a chance to question him why would Renée call him at work, he continued. "You got it, baby!"

"Dad, what are you talking about?" I asked, although I thought I had a faint idea. I blocked out the thought; I didn't want to raise my hopes up. It was easy to shut out my mind, but not the rest of me. My heart began to hammer in my chest. I clutched the receiver tighter.

"Juilliard!" He said another thing about acceptance letter in the mail, room assignments, orientation week in August, but those went right through me. My mind was swirling. _I got it!_

The phone was snatched from my hand; I started at the contact. I blinked and saw Billy bring it to his ear. I wondered how much of my dad's talking I'd missed. "Charlie? Yeah, I think she's in shock. We'll take care of her until you're back. Bring two large ones so we can celebrate properly. Sure, sure. I'll tell her. See you later."

I watched him as he put the phone back on its hook. The adrenaline pumped in my veins, and there was this constant ringing in my ears that wouldn't cease. My palms were actually sweating. In my bewilderment I felt Jacob approach and put his arms around my waist. Only with his weight pressed against mine, I could feel myself shaking. "Bella, give us a sign you're conscious, or we'll have to spill water on you," he said, laughing softly.

"I… got it," I murmured, my head reeling. "I got Juilliard."

"We're so proud of you," he whispered.

"Congratulations, Bella," said Billy, grinning hugely. Then he took one look at me, and the smile sort of froze. "Honey, why don't you sit down?"

I felt Jacob lead me to the closest chair and I sank into it gratefully. I could still feel myself trembling, and I knew I was probably scaring them with my catatonic, non-responsive behavior, but I couldn't do anything to stop it. I couldn't steer my mind in any direction but one. I got it. I really, _really_ got it. Nothing else mattered.

xoxox

On my last evening in Forks it was raining the hardest it had ever had during my visit. It started late in the afternoon, when Jacob and I headed to Port Angeles to catch a movie, and it didn't cease when we were on the way home. It was like a bad horror film. The rain pounded brutally against the tin roof of the car and the windows, and at several points I really feared the old car was going to give in and die on us in the middle of the highway. When visibility became close to zero, Jacob pulled over at the side of the road, saying it was better if we just waited it out. Ever a cop's daughter, I didn't even argue.

"Are you warm enough?" he asked, adjusting the temperature of the heater, which was as ancient as the car.

"I'm okay," I assured him, trying to conceal the fact my teeth were chattering. The cinema was nice and warm; it was a gruesome night to walk out to. I was about to point that out when I caught sight of Jacob. There was this shadow in his expression, this strange melancholy that wasn't usually there. It worried me. "What is it?"

"I was just thinking how much I was going to miss you," he said. His tone was quiet, serious, one which I'd rarely heard from him. "I know I always say this before you leave, but I had the best couple of weeks."

I shook my head sadly. "I know. I did, too."

"I was thinking… since Charlie is driving with us to the airport tomorrow…" His lips curled in a grin; he looked more like himself. "Do you think I can get my goodbye kiss now?"

Yeah, definitely more like himself, I thought, smiling. He seemed to be taking my reaction as consent. He unfastened his seatbelt and leaned over to place a chaste kiss against my lips. For a moment I thought that was all he was after and was about to tease him about it, when not a second later he pressed his lips more fiercely against mine. I gasped in surprise; my arms went to his neck instinctively. I felt my seatbelt become loose around my middle as he unfastened it before he brought his hands to cup my face, threading his fingers in my hair. He tasted of apple juice and buttered popcorn. I smiled against his lips. He took it as encouragement and delved deeper into the kiss, pinning me against my seat.

My hands slipped from around his neck to tug at his jacket as I pulled him closer against me. Our tongues battled for a moment, but soon I was getting breathless, lightheaded, as if I'd been running too fast or having too much champagne. I had to struggle to pull myself away from him. He shifted slightly, getting the hint. I caught a glimpse of his grin before he trailed his lips along my jaw, to that spot beneath my ear, finally setting against the crook of my neck.

"Bella," he groaned, his voice full of yearning. His hands came between us, his fingers fumbling with the buttons of my coat. He got it unbuttoned easily. His hands roamed over my sweater, edging down, towards the hem. I gasped when his cold fingers grazed the skin near my stomach. He let them flutter for a few seconds longer, teasing, before he brought them to the top button of my jeans.

"No," I breathed, laying my hands on his.

"Why?" his breath was warm on my neck.

I didn't answer at first. His hands, beneath mine, dropped to his sides as he slowly pulled away from me, his eyes searching mine. The air inside the car was stifling hot now. Our kisses had made me dizzy. I struggled to steer my mind in the right direction. "Just take me home, please."

He got off me wordlessly and sat back. Looking away from me, he opened the window a crack. It was enough to let some crisp air sip inside. An involuntary shudder went through me, but I embraced the chill. If anything, it made my mind more alert. When he turned to face me again, his eyes were cold, almost accusing. "We've been together for two years, Bella."

"Technically," I replied, so quietly I wasn't even sure he'd heard me. If you put together the amount of time we'd _actually_ been together in those two years, you'd probably get into a total of three months or so.

"Is it really a time issue, or is it something else?"

I looked away without replying, but I could still feel his eyes boring into me with unusual impatience. It was the one discussion I hoped I wouldn't have to face. My mom's words echoed mercilessly in my ears. Yes, I loved him, but not in the same way he'd loved me, not in the same way he wanted me to love him. I was attracted to him, but not enough for me to want him the same way he wanted me. It should have felt right, him touching me the way he had done, but from some reason it hadn't.

"You say that you love me, you kiss me back and let me hold your hand at the cinema, but whenever I try to do more than that you go cold!"

I shrank at the sound of his voice, reproaching, as if I were a child. "Jacob, it's not…"

"It's not what I think?" he interjected, infuriated. "Is that what you were about to say? What am I _supposed_ to think, Bella? Look," he said, and his expression became urgent as he took my hands. I didn't try to pull them back, fearing it would hurt him further. "You're leaving tomorrow. You start college in a few weeks, and who knows when we'll see each other again. This is our one chance. Give me one good reason why we shouldn't do this."

"Do you really want our first time to be in the front seat of your car?"

He didn't miss a beat. "Fine. Your place or mine?"

"My dad, your dad."

He sighed, exasperated. "See? Endless excuses," he said, his face turning sour again. "Maybe if you stop hiding behind them and be honest with yourself, be honest with me – "

"You're going too fast for me," I said, looking at him earnestly. "I just need more time, Jake."

"Sorry," he said tersely, and abruptly let go of my hands as he started the car. "Time is just the thing I'm running out of."

There was tense, awkward silence on the short drive to Charlie's house. I felt horrible. I didn't mean to hurt him, but of course, I should have seen it coming. I knew he was right. I _was_ hiding behind endless excuses, and rather silly ones, too. I was lying to myself, and to him, which was worse. Even though it wasn't the first time we'd been in this situation, it was the first time I felt helpless, entirely helpless. I saw no way out of this mess.

"Well, good night," he said after he killed the engine, looking straight ahead. His apathy went straight through me. I swear I could feel my heart bleed.

"Good night," I whispered, hating to think this would be the last image of him I'd have engraved in my mind on the way to New York, but I didn't dare to say more. This was my doing and I deserved it. I grabbed my purse and wordlessly went out of the car. The rain had stopped at some point of the way. Its scent lingered heavily in the air. I walked slowly to the door, forcing my eyes straight ahead. As much as I wanted to, I didn't look back to see if he waited until I was safely inside, if he was watching me with that fathomless stare of his. I didn't deserve such indulgence.

Once inside, I locked the door and headed into the living room. The TV was on, of course, and Charlie had jolted awake as soon as I poked my head inside. "Back so soon?" he asked, yawning.

"Yeah… sorry I woke you, Dad."

"What, I wasn't sleeping," he mumbled. To him, falling asleep in front of the TV was something old people had done. He wasn't _that_ old yet, he had told me over and over. "Did you have a good evening?"

"Yeah, it was great," I said, avoiding his eyes. I murmured something about having to pack and excused myself.

I sank on the bed and released the breath I didn't even know I was holding. It was easier to sink into frustration in the privacy of my room. I was in trouble, and I had no idea what to do to solve it. It hurt to realize my mom had been right all along. I should have ended this. But now it felt as if it was too late, as if I'd been in too deep. I shouldn't have let it go on for so long. Everything I'd do now was going to hurt him, if I stayed or if I left. Every path I'd choose would be wrong.

But even with two wrong paths, one had always been more right than the other.

I sprang to my feet and hurried out. I met Charlie halfway to the phone. "What's up?" he asked, his gaze disoriented and confused.

"I need to call Jake."

"Weren't you out with him until now?"

"I forgot to tell him something."

"Can't it wait until tomorrow?"

"No, it really can't." Under the circumstances, I didn't even know if he was still planning to come to the airport with us. "Good night, Dad," I added, turning my back on him before he could say more. As I hurried towards the kitchen, I heard him murmur something unintelligible, probably about how impatient kids today had been.

I tried to stop myself from thinking about what I was going to do. I just wanted to get this over with. You can do this, I reassured myself as I listened to the dial tone, waiting for him to answer. It's easier than you think.

He picked up not two rings later, almost as if he was sitting by the phone. "Bella?"

His voice sounded softer, more like himself. "I'm sorry. I know it's late."

"No, it's… it's fine. I was actually on my way to call you."

I wasn't expecting that. "Oh?"

"I'm so sorry about tonight. I don't know what came over me. I should never have spoken to you like I did. I didn't mean it to sound like I was forcing myself on you or anything, I'm just…" he sighed, catching on his breath. "I love you. I guess I'm not sure how this Juilliard thing is going to affect us now."

His confession caught me off-guard. I wasn't expecting him to do that, and it only enhanced second thoughts. He was too good for me, he really was. _He_ was apologizing to _me_? Even I could see how twisted it had been.

"Bella, say something," he said, laughing nervously.

I was about to echo his apology and explain I was confused. Things _would_ be better, I wanted to comfort him. I was just tired and stressed over Juilliard. I did love him. I did want him the same way he wanted me.

But there was this other part of me, who was tired of pretending.

"Jacob, there's something I have to tell you."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I wasn't planning on updating so soon, but this one is ready and done! It's my favorite so far – always happy to know what you guys think. Happy reading =)**

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Chapter Four – Edward

The more I tried to erase the image of Bella Swan off my mind, the longer she stuck there. The memory of her eyes, her hair, her smile lingered, bewitching. Every idle moment next to the piano, I found myself play the piece from her audition. It was as if my fingers fluttered on the keys out of their own volition. It was madness. There was absolutely no reason for her to have so much impact on me after five minutes of me watching her dance, surely not after merely three minutes of conversation. I shouldn't have such a distinct recollection of her, such an accurate hold on her words, her voice, her laughter, her blush…

It was twice as frustrating because I couldn't talk to anyone about it. Alice had left as soon as her audition had ended. She was in the middle of finals, and her mom insisted she'd be on a plane to Seattle that very evening. Besides, what could I tell her? How could I make things sound less ridiculous than they were? I really knew nothing about Bella Swan. My current behavior defied all reason. It was humiliating enough to admit it to myself; I could never admit it to Alice as well. Emmett and Rosalie were preoccupied with their upcoming move, in the middle of the packing frenzy. Not that I could ever say a word to Emmett about it. He'd be as bad as Alice if he ever knew. He'd jump into wrong conclusions about me having feelings for this girl just because I talked to her for three minutes.

It really _was_ three minutes. Why was I making a big deal out of it? Absurd.

A few weeks passed, and fortunately her image began to fade slowly, although fragments of it still lingered at the back of my mind. Emmett and Rosalie left for Los Angeles by then, and I moved into their apartment as soon as my semester had ended. It felt strange at first, like living in a museum. It was too quiet, too tidy. I was constantly scared I'd break something or cause any other damage that would make Rose kick my ass all the way to Brazil. It was a while before I started feeling truly at home there. But unfortunately by then, it was time to head towards Forks.

So yes, there was that part of me who was still reluctant to spend the rest of the summer in Forks, especially after that short meeting with Bella Swan. I knew nothing of her summer plans. She was in Forks during the summer two years ago, at Emmett's wedding. Did that mean she visited her dad regularly during the summer? What if she was there right now? What if I ended up bumping into her in the convenient store or at the diner? What if I made a complete fool out of myself in front of everyone, my parents, Emmett, Alice?

And then again there was this other part, the one that made me fidget in my seat and look out of the window like a kid who was flying for the first time, the one who was counting the minutes until it was time to land. I couldn't wait to be home, to see my mom and dad again. Homesickness had no age.

The airport was swirling and buzzing like a beehive when I stepped out. Still, recognizing my mom didn't take more than a second. She wasn't exceptionally tall, but her hair always made her distinguishable. It was a shade or two darker than mine, chestnut-colored and shoulder length. Somehow she managed to look classy even in a simple blue blouse and black slacks. She was reaching fifty, but you couldn't tell that from her appearance. I didn't know how she did it. I thought it was that constant glint in her eyes that made her appear younger than she had been.

I wasn't surprised to notice the leash she held tightly in her hand. Sophie was an anniversary gift from my dad a few years back. My mom had always wanted a pug, and now when she finally had one, she'd hardly gone anywhere without Sophie. We'd all grown attached to her in a short time, actually. I could have sworn she was growing fatter each time I'd seen her, but my mom would always dismiss my accusations. This was how pugs were supposed to look like, she'd say, and we'd all nod as if we believed her. The truth was that she had spoilt her dog rotten, but we couldn't blame her. When we were home, we did the same.

I'd expected Sophie to catch my scent and recognize me, but it was actually my mom who noticed me first. My grandfather had always said how Emmett and I had always been the center in my mother's life. I'd never believed him, but when I saw the way she smiled at me now when I finally caught up with her, I thought that maybe there was a hint of truth in that. There was suspicious moisture around her eyes when I leaned closer to hug her. "Mom, have you been crying?" I asked, leaning my chin on the top of her head. She'd had the same sweet, flowery scent I'd associated with her since my childhood.

"Of course not. Something got in my eye, that's all," she mumbled against my shirt. I laughed. Like me, she could never lie properly.

I could feel Sophie's paws impatiently scratch the bottom of my jeans. Laughing, I pulled away from my mom and knelt next to her. She launched at my face instantly and licked me from my cheek to my forehead. "_Ew_, Sophie, that's gross! Some lady, you are!"

Apparently, she didn't care. She began to sort of dance around me, her tail wagging madly, in what seemed like unrestraint enthusiasm. Her tongue dangled to one side of her mouth as she panted noisily. It was her own way to tell me she'd missed me, too, in case I forgot.

"Where's Dad?"

"He had an urgent surgery planned for this afternoon, but he'll join us for dinner as soon as he can," my mom said, still smiling. "I'm so glad you're home. Emmett and Rosalie were just here this weekend."

We were only exchanging emails since they'd left. "How's Los Angeles?"

"Great, they say. I think they miss Manhattan, though."

"It's only one year."

"I can't say anything of course. Having them close now serves my interest well," she laughed. "I'll be sad when they return to New York." Her gaze was turned away from me, and for a split second it was wistful rather than cheerful, but then, just as fast, she caught herself and the smile was back. "Come on, let's get you home."

xoxox

My parents' house wasn't in Forks, but in a clearing right off the town. Its back porch had a gate that led to the lake. We used to spend whole summers there, before my dad allowed us to go to First Beach near La Push. I guessed he'd found Emmett responsible enough at fifteen. He used to drive us back and forth, and when we got our drivers' license, we used to drive there ourselves. Soon it had become our favorite spot. I couldn't wait to get down there now.

We spent the afternoon in the kitchen, where I helped my mom prepare dinner. She'd always made a fuss over dinners on her days off, although those were considerably rare. Mom had her own gallery in Seattle, and she spent most of her time there. It was as if she didn't trust anyone else to run it in her absence. Cooking was her hobby, and my dad had usually teased her how if she hadn't been an artist, she could become a chef.

As I helped her to chop and stir, she asked me questions about school and my classes and our end of the year recital, when all the while, I knew what she was really after. Apart for Rosalie's failing attempts to set me up with someone, I didn't have a significant other since senior year. I'd known Jessica Stanley since elementary school, as did most kids who'd grown up in Forks. We were one of those best-friends-turned-high-school-sweethearts couples, but at some point friendship was gone, love had faded, and I'd never seen her again since I'd gone to Juilliard. I heard she got into law school someplace, but I was never too interested to find out more about it. I knew my mom was disappointed when it was over with Jessica. Like everyone else, she assumed we'd get married at some point. To this day, I wasn't even sure I'd ever loved her. It was more of the idea of being with someone that had appealed to me. Sure, she meant a lot to me in the past, but what did I really know at seventeen?

To my surprise, my dad got back just in time for dinner. He loved his work at the hospital, and he was never home on time, no matter what he'd tried to do to make it. There was always an urgent case just when he was about to leave. And my dad was always too compassionate, too devoted, to refuse his patients anything. We'd all accepted it. When Emmett and I were little, we'd been so proud of him. _Our dad saves lives_, we used to say to anyone who would listen. We were proud of him still.

I watched him now, sitting across from me, as I answered his questions about school. He looked more like a movie star than a doctor. I could easily place him in those classic, black and white films alongside Clark Gable or Grace Kelly. None of us inherited his startling good looks. His complexion was fair, his eyes bright blue. I looked nothing like him. I had my mom's coloring, my grandmother's eyes. Emmett had our dad's eyes when he was a baby, the family legend had said, but then at some point they darkened into a grayish-blue sort of shade.

"Speaking of Juilliard, Edward," my dad said, pulling me out of my reverie. "Chief Swan came in today for a blood test."

I nearly choked on my drink, but I caught myself just in time. I cleared my throat and slowly set my glass on the table. "Oh?"

"Apparently his daughter has just been accepted to Juilliard."

My mother cocked an eyebrow, a motion I'd come to know as interest. "Isabella?"

"Bella," I heard myself say, which turned out to be a fatal mistake. Both of them stared at me, clearly surprised by my slip. "I think she prefers Bella," I murmured, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. Damn it.

There was a pause, and then my dad continued. "Charlie only has one daughter, so I guess it must be Bella," he replied to my mom's previous inquiry, looking at me significantly while using the name I'd just pointed out. "She's a dancer."

"You played in the auditions, didn't you, Edward?"

"Yeah, but I don't remember seeing her," I said, keeping my eyes on my plate. The lie came easily, too easily. I felt uncomfortable lying to my mom like that, without even knowing why I was doing it. So what if I did see her in the auditions? What difference did it make?

"She must be, what, nineteen now?"

My dad nodded. "I believe so. I haven't seen her in a while, not since Emmett's wedding. I think she's visiting Charlie this summer."

My fork dropped to the floor with an ear-deafening clang, causing both my parents to look up in surprise. Luckily, I was spared from the need to explain my accident, because just then, the phone rang. I sprinted out of my seat before any of them could object, and dashed out of the room to get it.

"Oh, Edward, you're _home_!" Alice gushed on the other end as soon as she'd recognized my voice. "I tried your apartment in New York and no one answered, but I didn't realize you'd be in Forks so soon!"

"Alice, slow down, will you?" I laughed. She was speaking faster than the speed of light when she was excited.

"Edward, you'll never _guess_ what happened!" Apparently, she hadn't heard me. "I got in!"

"You got in where?"

"Juilliard, you idiot, I just got my acceptance letter!" I let her get it out of her system and for the next few minutes I heard nothing but her own excited babble. Then, a few moments later, she stopped. "You're not saying anything," she pointed out, sort of hesitantly. "Aren't you happy for me?"

I heard the pout in her voice, and I smiled. "Oh, I am. But you can't expect me to be surprised or anything. You said you could see the future, remember?" I teased her.

"Edward Anthony Cullen, you're mean! Put Aunt Esme on the phone. _She_ will appreciate the news," she said, and there was clear accusation in her tone.

"Are you coming over soon, Munchkin?"

"I'm coming this weekend! But we'll have to wait for Emmett and Rose to celebrate!"

"Celebrate what?" I asked, struggling to keep my voice indifferent. I could hear her swear when I put the phone down to get my mom.

xoxox

For the next few days I was too busy to be tempted to check if my dad's suspicions about Bella visiting her father were correct. Alice came over a lot, which was enough of a distraction, and there was my parents' party my mom needed help in planning. Since she had to work, it was up for Alice and me to drive to town and get the necessary ingredients, the right tablecloths, the right napkins and the right garden lightening. We couldn't find most of the stuff in Port Angeles, which meant road trips to Seattle. It was fun though. I didn't get a chance to drive in New York. It would be insanity to even try and get our jeep there, so whenever I had a chance to drive at home, I took it.

I dropped Alice at her place and headed home. No one was in when I entered, not even Sophie, which was always suspicious. I knew my dad was working until midnight, and my mom was probably at the gallery. I went from room to room in the bottom floor, whistling, expecting Sophie to saunter in lazily from one of the rooms, but she didn't. My parents had never left the back doors unlocked because of her, and still she was missing. Of course, it was possible she was asleep in some random corner of the house, but it didn't make much sense. She'd come to greet anyone who came through the door.

I walked into the kitchen. A carton of Lucky Charms lay open on the counter, with an empty bawl next to it. There was only one person who could keep it that way. I kind of had an idea where Sophie would be now, poor dog. I grabbed my keys and headed out again.

I could see them as soon as I parked the car on the cliff. Emmett's arrival was always a nightmare for Sophie, who was naturally lazy. He always scolded my mom for spoiling her, and did all he could do put her back to shape during his short stay. He loved setting training programs for people and dogs alike; Sophie hated it. Needless to say, it didn't last long once he left. Now was no different.

"Come on, you lazy cow, you can do it!" I heard him call out. His voice echoed across the bay. Sophie trailed after him sluggishly, her tongue dangling. I could almost hear her heavy breathing from the top of the cliff.

It turned out Emmett had arrived a few hours earlier. I must have missed him when I went to pick Alice up. Rosalie, who had a concert that evening, was due here tomorrow morning. As both our parents were out and he didn't know where Alice and I had been, he decided to take Sophie out for a run. He had to take a break when I caught up with them, though. We settled in our favorite spot on the beach, a huge rock by the shore. Sophie loved to explore the nooks that were made by the rocks, but since she was afraid of the water, she never went far. The shore stretched in front of us, white and deserted. The cold had kept most people away. We were almost the only ones out.

"Hey, have you seen any of the boys since you got here?"

I shook my head at Emmett's question. 'The boys' were the guys who lived in La Push, some my age, some older. They were regulars on First Beach since it was right off their grounds. We used to hang out with them quite a lot during the summer. "No. I didn't have much time to hang around the beach though."

"Rumor has it they're all too busy to hang out on the beach now," Emmett said. There was this sparkle in his eyes, one I had come to fear. "They have their hands full, so to speak."

I felt like rolling my eyes. His passion for gossip was worse than old ladies'. "You're only here for a couple of hours; how could you possibly figure that out so fast?"

"I met little Jimmy, and asked how everyone was. He told me," he replied, unabashed. "You know what, you might get lucky if you hang out with them long enough. I'm hearing they all have hot girls now."

I wasn't horrified, because I'd seen this coming. I couldn't help wondering if little Jimmy had particularly mentioned the fact those girls were hot, or if it was Emmett's interpretation. "And you think, what, that it's catching?"

"Well, hot girls have hot friends."

"I thought we had established I wasn't into hot girls," I said, rolling my eyes.

"What about Jessica? She was hot."

"Maybe that's why it didn't work," I said, avoiding his inspecting, pleading stare. Dark clouds hovered in the horizon. I could feel the wind now, gaining speed, blowing colder, as it sipped into the thin material of my shirt. It would be raining like crazy soon. "So tell me about those girls," I said, trying to conceal my disinterest. Anything was better than delving into a conversation about Jessica. "Are they all from the reservation?"

"Most of them. But do you remember Jacob Black?" I did, vaguely. He was about two years younger than me, but much taller, with glossy, jet black hair. His dad was in a wheelchair, but we never knew the exact details of that incident. An accident, we assumed. No one ever talked about it in the reservation. We all admired Jacob for the way he'd tended his dad. "Jimmy says Jacob's girl is from Forks."

"I didn't know kids from the rez mixed with people from Forks." They certainly hadn't when I'd gone to school. I remembered their initial reserve to hook up with us when we first came to First Beach.

"Maybe they do now," Emmett replied. He had that idiotic look on his face, like the one he'd got when he was told a dirty joke. At that moment, I was grateful I was unable to read minds. If I could, his was probably one I'd do everything in my power to avoid.

xoxox

That evening, Alice called and announced she was coming over. It wasn't a big surprise to any of us, even despite the fact I had just spent most of the morning with her. It was a usual summer routine at the Cullen residence. And with Alice around, we'd come to expect the unexpected.

I went downstairs just in time to see her disappear in Emmett's bear hug. She was so tiny it was laughable. You really could see nothing on her once Emmett had enveloped her in his embrace. "And how is my favorite elf? Congratulations for Juilliard!" he said, kissing the top of her head. It was amazing to see these two interact. Alice had been the sister we'd never had. "We're going out to celebrate, yes?"

"'Course we are. I can't wait to beat you at pool again," she said smugly as he slowly let go of her.

"You _never_ beat me at pool, Munchkin," he said, reaching for his leather jacket. "I let you win so you won't feel bad about yourself."

I listened halfheartedly to their banter on the way to the car and then during the drive to Port Angeles. They were still teasing each other when we parked in front of our regular pub, one of the only two in Port Angeles. As far as entertainment went, Seattle had far more options than Port Angeles had ever had. But it was a longer drive and the weather was grim. Besides, Alice didn't drive all the way to Forks just to be driven in the opposite direction again.

I was too awful at pool to actually participate, and since both of Emmett and Alice were so determined to beat one another, they didn't try to convince me to join them, fearing I'd ruin their chances. I watched them play, absentmindedly sipping my beer. Every once in a while the bottle froze halfway to my lips as I thought I noticed a dark-haired girl leaning on the bar. I tensed, holding on to my drink as if my life depended on it, only to find out a moment later my mind was only playing tricks on me. None of them was the one I truly wanted to bump into there.

I glanced at my watch, trying not to look uninterested. The truth was that I was tired and not in the mood to be surrounded by people I didn't know in a place that reeked of alcohol and cigarettes. The music was good, but it was passing right through me. I just wanted out, back in my room with my books and my piano. Maybe I'd compose something. I let my fingers flutter in the air, on an imaginary keyboard, trying out the sounds I could hear playing in my head. The melody was too beautiful to risk forgetting. I reached for a napkin and searched my pockets for a pen.

Two arms snaked around my waist then. I jumped, startled, and the pen fell from my hand and rolled across the small table. I reached out to grab it before it crashed on the ground. I didn't have to turn around to see who it was.

"I didn't know you were in town," she said, her voice low and husky in my ear. I could smell the alcohol in her breath.

"For a few weeks," I replied, my throat tightening in spite of myself. I really wasn't up for starting a conversation, let alone with her, but I was familiar with her persistence. She wouldn't let go. "How have you been, Jessica?"

"Never better," her smile was blinding. "And you?"

"Fine," I said curtly. I didn't want to offend her, but I wasn't up for sweet talk and pleasantries.

"How about a little dance?" she asked, giving me that sultry look I'd fallen for dozens of times in the past. I watched her closely now, trying to pin down what was it in her I'd initially found so attractive. Whatever it was, I couldn't spot it now.

"I don't dance, Jessica," I replied slowly, dryly.

"Since when?" she asked, surprised, as her lips curled into a pout.

"Since the day I realized I couldn't dance. Not without you manipulating me on the floor."

"Well, at least you learned an important lesson in dancing," she said, her voice not breaking once. I admired her ability to take an insult as calmly. "It's all in the leading."

She laid her hand on mine and gave me another earnest look, but a movement by the bar caught my attention. It was another dark-haired girl, but this one was different. There was something in the way she leaned forward, that familiar gracefulness I remembered. I murmured a quick apology to Jessica; I could feel her gawking at me as I crossed the room, but I didn't look back. I was too focused on the sight in front of me to care for anything else. Her hair danced against her back, long and loose and soft-looking. She wore a blue top that blended well with her creamy skin. My mind was making up what I couldn't see in the dim light of the pub. Like that day in the auditions, I was driven solely by impulse. I just wanted to talk to her again.

"Excuse me."

Shock and disappointment mixed in one another, hitting me full-force when she turned and faced me. It wasn't her. Her eyes searched mine; she giggled beneath my gaze, as if embarrassed. "Yes?"

How could I ever mistake this girl for Bella? Her voice was wrong, too hoarse. She was pretty, but artificial. She wore too much makeup. She was fake, as fake as the vision she had been only a second ago. "Sorry. I thought you were someone else," I mumbled, already making my way back.

Fortunately, Jessica was nowhere to be found when I slouched back on my chair. I ignored Emmett's curious glances and just sat there, staring emptily at the wooden patterns on the old table, and hoping to get this evening over with.

Being the least drunk out of the three of us, I drove us home. I turned the radio on, hoping the music would drown my own thoughts. Unfortunately, Emmett and Alice thought it would be fun to start a Madonna sing-along. I didn't bother to tell them they were off tune. They wouldn't listen anyway, I knew. I let my mind drift to those moments before Jessica's abrupt interruption, to that melody I'd been working on in my head. As much as I tried to think back of it now, it wouldn't come back to me. It had always frustrated me, the way ideas had come and gone that way, and the uncertainty whether I'd ever get to hear it in my head again for long enough for me to immortalize it on a page. But for now, it was gone. Just like the thing I thought I saw by the bar, it vanished without a trace.

xoxox

Two days before the party, I volunteered to drive to Port Angeles for some last minute shopping. Everyone else was busy putting everything together in the house. Emmett helped hanging the garden decorations, and it was always better he'd play handyman than me. Alice was giving my mom a hand in the kitchen, and Rose was responsible for the internal decorations. It was nice to drive out of town alone, for a change. I enjoyed Alice's company, but sometimes it was a bit too much. I kept the windows down despite the faint drizzle, reveling at the way the wind ruffled my hair. The air smelt fresh and sweet, a combination New York had never seemed able to muster. It was one thing I'd always miss about this area.

On my way back, before I realized what I was doing, I was around the curb from Charlie Swan's house. As soon as I saw his cruiser parked in front, I scolded myself. Throughout my stay in Forks, it was easy to keep thoughts of her away. There were enough people around to keep me busy and distracted. But now I was alone, parked across the street from her house like a stalker – what was I thinking? Could I actually walk to their door and ask her to come out?

And just like that, I thought, yeah. That's what I'd like to do. I knew Charlie wouldn't be at my parents' party. He'd already apologized to my dad, saying he had to be at work. But she could come, couldn't she? She _would_ come, if I asked her…?

I stepped out of the car and crossed the street before I could think better of it, but I didn't walk straight to the door. Their house was the last one in the street. There was thick vegetation to its left; the beginning of the forest, I assumed. I crouched behind a bush, listening. I didn't know what I was waiting for, really. A sign she was actually home? I looked up at what must have been her room, that single window at the top floor. Was she there? Was she still in town?

The front door tore open and I started, then tensed. Feeling like a complete psycho, I leaned over the bush to have a better look. There she was, prettier than in my vision, in jeans and one of her dad's flannel shirts underneath a worn-out brown coat. Her hair was tied back, dangling behind her as she hopped over the stairs by the front door. "I won't be long, Dad!" she called in the direction of the house. "I'll be at Jacob's if you need me!"

Charlie's reply was vague. My eyes fixed on her as she climbed into an ancient-looking truck and drove away, oblivious to my existence.

In the darkening skies, a thunder rumbled, as if Nature herself was mocking me. I got up, feeling humiliated and reproached. What _was_ I thinking, really, I thought when I crossed the street towards my car as the light drizzle soon turned into pouring rain. Suddenly everything just clicked. _Jimmy says Jacob's girl is from Forks_, Emmett had said. It all made sense now.

And that was all I needed. I tried not to think of it as I drove away, too slowly for my taste. I wished I could hit the gas and speed along the road, to find some way to channel my anger, my disappointment, my frustration, but the roads were too slippery, too dangerous, and responsibility was still stronger than any other impulse. It felt stupid to be thwarted, stupid and childish. I was like a spoilt brat who didn't get a toy he'd really wanted for his birthday. Bella Swan wasn't my toy. I had no claim on her whatsoever. I gave her no signs I might want…

No. Enough. If anything, this had been a sign for _me_; a sign to stop searching for what wasn't there. She was with someone else, and I had to respect that and step back. I wondered how I could be disappointed over the ending of something which had never started, but I was. I wasn't even that well-acquainted with Jacob Black, but losing her to him hurt more than I had thought possible, more than it should have. She wasn't mine; she had never been mine. I missed my chance. And from now on, I promised myself never to think about her again.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Juilliard times! This author's note is just to remind you I'm hardly as talented as my characters (or, rather, Stephenie's characters), and therefore I've never attended Juilliard. The little I know comes from their website. Lecturers' names are fictional. I used some of the courses' names, and made up some others. I'm twisting some facts here and I'm aware of it, so if you find inconsistencies, that's why. That being said, I wanted to thank you again for keeping up with the story and for reviewing. I hope you enjoy the following chapter.**

**Also, the story now has a banner! Check it out on my profile page – huge thankyou and hugs for Mizra =)**

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Chapter Five – Bella

Being the coward that I had always been, by the time I had arrived to New York, I was still trapped in a relationship I didn't have the guts to put an end to. That phone call to Jacob had ended with me chickening out and not telling him I wanted to break up. I'd meant to tell him, I really had, but I'd found myself unable to. I just couldn't let the words out. I couldn't break his heart that way. I'd rather be hurt than hurt him.

I flew to New York by myself. Despite my mom's reluctance to send me off on my own, she just couldn't get off of work. The end of August had always been the craziest time for kindergarten teachers, she had apologized. The result of it was that I had to endure endless safety lectures from both my mom and Charlie. I knew she'd talked him into doing this, because he used his Chief Swan tone on me, like he had always done when he'd tried to appear authoritative. I took it all silently. I got tired of constantly pointing out to them I was three weeks away from my nineteenth birthday.

When I left the airport, I was momentarily paralyzed. Everything was bigger than I'd expected. I didn't remember the streets had been so packed before, when I'd been there with my mom. People walked passed me in all directions, speaking dozens of different languages, all of them in a hurry. I could easily get lost here. I stood there clutching my backpack against my chest as those dreadful scenarios crawled in. What if I _did_ get lost? Would someone at school notice if I didn't show up for orientation? There was a worse option. What if they lost my application forms and it turned out it was all a huge mistake? I'd be alone and homeless in this city which threatened to swallow me whole. I wasn't even sure I had enough money to get myself a ticket back to Phoenix.

I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. I tried to remember the exercises Madame Claudine had done with us at the end of each lesson, but I was too nervous to feel truly relaxed. My eyes flew open and the sight of the bustling city came crushing upon me way too fast again. Now I was more than anxious; I was terrified. I could feel sweat slowly trickling from the back of my neck and under my shirt. Even my palms were sweating. I would have started to hyperventilate if it wasn't for a yellow taxi that came to a halt in front of me just then. "Where to, honey?"

I climbed in gratefully, and gave the driver the address of the residence hall. He seemed to recognize it, because three seconds after he started the car, he broke into a monologue about a daughter of the sister of his wife, who played the violin and went to Juilliard about a decade ago. He was speaking too fast for me, and with a heavy accent which I didn't recognize. But at some point I realized he wasn't really talking to me. I leaned back in the seat and tried those breathing exercises again.

I forced my eyes straight ahead. I didn't want to look back. If I did I'd start crying, and I'd had enough of that on the flight here. I hadn't been overly emotional normally, but today I couldn't stop the tears from coming. I already missed everything: my mom and my room and Madame Claudine. Her last words the night before still echoed in my mind. _You can be whatever you'll want to be, if you have faith in yourself_. Her voice, as soft as a caress, had the tiniest hint of accent as it always had. I remembered her eyes, dark and fathomless and slightly tearful, and the way her hands firmly clutched mine. More than anything, I wanted to make her proud, to make all of them proud. Looking back wouldn't bring me closer to this goal.

The driver left me on the sidewalk with my luggage. I turned down his offer to help me get everything inside. As I watched him drive away, I thought that maybe doing that was a mistake. It was too late to change my mind; when I looked up, the taxi disappeared among many others just like it. I tore my gaze from the road and looked up at what was to be my home for at least the following year. The building was over twenty floors high; looking at it made me dizzy. It made me feel small and meaningless, like the way an ant must feel while looking up at a human. The view from up there must be gorgeous, I mused, trying to swallow my fear. It was as if someone had unleashed a bunch of butterflies in my stomach. Their wings were fluttering uncontrollably inside of me, making me want to turn back, hail another taxi and head home. If worse came to worse, I could always take a bus. It would take hours, if not days, before I was home, but at least I'd get there eventually.

But I couldn't do that. I couldn't let all those people down, my mom and dad, Madame Claudine, Jacob. And I couldn't let myself down. I'd never believed I'd get here and I had. I might as well make the best out of it, as long as I was here. Standing there on the sidewalk, I couldn't help but think about Julie Andrews in the beginning of _The Sound of Music_, right before she'd been sent to watch over those horrible children. _I have confidence in confidence alone_, the song went. It had always been one of my favorite showtunes. Maybe it was time I should try that one on myself. If Julie Andrews could do it, so could I. I grabbed my suitcase and wheeled it towards the building's entrance, feeling slightly more sure of myself.

xoxox

There were a few people in the lobby when I walked in, each carrying luggage, some with cases in which I assumed their instruments were, as if they had just gotten here too. I was too giddy to linger on faces, to try and memorize them. I did notice they all looked scared, and I wondered if there was the same expression on my face too. Despite my former dread, there were no mistakes about my application. I was directed to my room on the ninth floor. There were a few people upstairs already, the lady who gave me the keys had said. She meant it as an encouragement, I was sure, but it didn't sound too comforting. I felt my heart begin to race again.

As the elevator made its way to my designated floor, I wondered if my roommate was among those people who had already arrived. I glanced at the note in my hand. It was wrinkled and slightly torn, a result of my constant fussing with it. We were given our roommates' names in advance so we could contact them before orientation week if we wished. I'd never had. I just wasn't the kind of person to randomly pick up the phone and call someone across the country going, 'hi, you don't know me, but I'll be your roommate at Juilliard next year!' I was just too shy to do something like that. Besides, if I was going to spend the entire year with this girl, I didn't want the first time we'd talk to be on the phone or by emails.

I already knew her name was Alice Brandon and that she was from Seattle. She went to the Seattle Academy of Arts and Sciences, and so she'd already had an advantage I hadn't had. I went to a regular school and took ballet lessons at the studio three times a week, and even less during senior year. It sounded as if she'd done more professional dancing than I'd ever had, but I tried not to let it get to me. Ever since I received my room assignments, I wondered what she'd be like. More than anything, I hoped I'd like her. There was nothing worse than being stuck year with someone you loathed for the entire year.

The suite I was directed to was the last one down the hall. I folded my note and stuck it in my back pocket. Faint sounds of music and chatter came from the closed doors as I crossed the hall, and I wondered how it was possible people felt so at home there already. I shook my head as I pushed the door open. I wished I had this ability to adjust to new places so fast. Unfortunately, it had never been that easy for me. I doubted I could even get a proper sleep tonight.

There were a few people in the common room of my suite, coming in and out of rooms with bags and cases and racks. The room had huge windows, and from the top of the ninth floor, the view was breathtaking. I caught only a glimpse of it now, on my way to my room. I was too nervous to let that distract me. I didn't know if my roommate had arrived yet, but I knocked anyway before I stuck my head in.

"Oh, you must be Isabella!" she exclaimed, launching herself like a rocket from her bed to my side.

I couldn't help but stare at her for a second, dumbfounded. Aside for the fact she had the coolest leggings I'd ever seen in my life (startling turquoise and fuzzy and matching her top), it had just dawned on me I'd seen her before.

"What's wrong?" she asked, eyeing me anxiously.

Realizing I was gawking at her, I shook my head, forcing myself to snap out of it. "Sorry, I just realized I knew you."

"You do?"

"Yeah, I saw you at the auditions."

"_Oh_! And I thought you meant… ah, well! Never mind! Hi! I'm Alice," she beamed at me.

"Bella," I replied, a bit dazed. She was speaking extremely fast. I could already tell I'd have trouble keeping up with her.

"It's _so_ nice to meet you, Bella!"

"Likewise."

I watched her pirouette across the room and land on her bed. She resumed what she was doing when I walked it: taking various toiletries out of a huge bag and arranging them on the shelf on what appeared to be her side of the room. I caught her in the middle of unpacking, it seemed. The bed she'd chosen was completely covered by clothes. There were also a few empty bags of all shapes and sizes, each carrying a different yet familiar logo of some designer or other. I could bet even the bags had cost more than I was able to afford. She had about six pairs of dance slippers in various colors. I was taken aback but one of them, which was metallic blue. I couldn't even begin to speculate why someone would even want to make ballet slippers in such a color, let alone why someone would bother to buy them. Apparently, Alice had.

I thought of my own worn-out slippers, safe in my backpack because I refused to send them ahead in my suitcase. I couldn't risk losing them in case my luggage would travel elsewhere by mistake. I'd had them for years, and their original shiny pink had sort of faded into pearly white through the years. No matter how many times my mom had tried to convince me to get another pair, I'd refused to part with them. I'd only agreed to get new ones so I could have an extra pair here, just in case, but I knew I was going to leave the new ones behind.

As I stood there and took in the sight of Alice's bed, I was beginning to fear I'd packed too little, not just of dance slippers, but of everything. "I thought they didn't pair people from the same division in the same room," I said, wheeling my suitcase to the other side of the room, which looked so bare and plain in comparison.

"I _know_, imagine my surprise when I got my room assignment!" She let go of the bottle she held. It looked like body lotion, but I didn't recognize the label. She brought her legs up and rested her chin against her knees. Those leggings were seriously distracting, even more than the blue slippers. "I think it's kind of fun we're in the same division, though. Actresses has the most horrible temper," she said, sniffing, "and musicians? I've got a few in my family, so let's not even go there. Yes, I'm definitely glad we've got paired together," she smiled at me. It was impossible not to return her smile. She was so feisty. "Is this your first time in New York?"

"It is." I didn't want her to see how scared this fact had made me, so I didn't say more.

"Well, you're going to love it. New York City is the best place to be. It's my favorite city."

"In the world?" I regretted the words as soon as I'd asked it. I wasn't very good with sarcasm. Like humor, it had always taken people a while to even realize I was trying to make a joke.

Fortunately, she didn't take offence. "Pretty much," she replied, smiling haughtily, and for a moment I wasn't sure if I was supposed to take this seriously. What did I know; maybe she had seen the world.

It was a stupid thing to think about, because my mind instinctively wandered to Jacob, and to his promise that one day he'd make enough money for us to travel across the States and Alaska, then Europe, then Africa and the Far East. I remembered thinking how naïve this fantasy had sounded, but at the same time, it was impossible not to get caught up in his enthusiasm. We spent hours in one of the bookshops in Port Angeles, leafing through travel books and planning imaginary routes for our trips.

"You look distracted," Alice's voice tore into my daydream. I looked up to meet her gaze. She was observing me curiously, her head slightly tilted to one side as if she was trying to figure me out. "What's the matter? Did you leave your heart back in Phoenix?"

I knew next to nothing about her, but her sense of observation was spot on. "Something like that, yeah."

"Well, first let's get you unpacked," she said, bouncing off her bed. I sidled instinctively, fearing she'd crash right into me. "And then when we're done, you can tell me all about it!"

We were nothing alike, I'd already figured as much. I could never bond with people like her. I kept my distance from them at school, which wasn't really necessary because they didn't even look my way anyway. But this girl was different. From some reason, she did pay attention to everything I said and did, and she actually seemed to care. And while I was slightly intimidated by her never ending energy, I kind of liked her already.

xoxox

Alice had an advantage with the unpacking, being there a few hours longer than me, so when she was done, she began helping me. At some point I sort of ditched my initial shyness. I found myself caught up with her enthusiastic conversation. The sound of my own giggling caught me off-guard. I'd already detected a few major differences between us. She was outspoken and loud and I wasn't. Her wardrobe was exceptionally colorful, mine included mostly dull browns and blues and grays. I loved ballet, and she took it only because it was a required course. She enjoyed contemporary dancing much better. She loved shopping on her free time; I loved reading.

"I tried to call you when I got my room assignment," she said as we made our way out to the common room hours later. There were more people around by then. We all eyed each other curiously but said nothing, like schoolchildren on their first day. Alice led the way to two huge green cushions by the window. It was nearing dusk, and the sky was a pallet of purples and oranges mixed in one another. Streetlights were tiny diamonds from up here, and cars looked like toys. It was so spectacular that for a moment, I didn't even hear her until she continued speaking. "Your mom said you were away for the summer."

I detected the anticipation in her voice and laughed bitterly. Considering our earlier conversation, I could tell she was picturing an exotic cruise in the Bahamas or a shopping spree in Paris. "Nothing overly exciting, don't get all worked up. My parents are divorced. I spend summers with my dad." Then I realized something and shook my head. "Actually, I was pretty close to where you live."

"Oh?"

"You're from Seattle, aren't you? My dad lives in Forks."

Her forehead cringed; it amazed me how she still managed to look pretty. "Forks? Is that a city?"

"It's a really small town not far from Seattle. You've never heard of it?"

"Nope, can't say I have," she said, shaking her head. I wasn't surprised. I'd never heard of it until I was old enough to understand my dad hadn't lived with us. I remembered being surprised it was even on the map. "But your boyfriend is from Phoenix, right?"

It was always strange to think of Jake as my boyfriend. These definitions just didn't hold when it was just the two of us. It was weird hearing people trying to assign them to us. "No. He's from La Push, but if you've never heard of Forks then there's no way you'll know it."

She let out a long whistle. "Long distance relationship. Tough."

"You sound just like my mom," I accused her, pretending to sulk.

"She doesn't approve?"

"She thinks I'm too young to tie myself down to someone who lives miles away."

"What do _you_ think?"

"I thought I loved him."

She cocked an eyebrow. "But now you're not sure?"

Well, there's a question. I had no good answer to that, and it scared me. I used to be so certain about us. Did I love him? Had I ever loved him at all? I tried to pinpoint the moment when my confidence had wavered, but I found myself unable to.

"Well, tell me more. So you live in Phoenix and your parents are divorced. Any brothers or sisters?"

"No, it's just me. How about you?"

"One brother who thinks he owns the universe."

The way she rolled her eyes made me laugh. Funny. From the little I'd known about her so far, I sort of assumed she would be an only child. "Older? Younger?"

"_Slightly_ older, which makes him think it gives him the right to boss me around. It annoys him when I try to set him up with girls." She paused and gave me her closer look again. "You know what, you'll do perfectly."

I stared at her horrified, unsure whether she meant it or not. Either way, she was too direct for me. Her inspecting gaze made me uncomfortable and I giggled nervously, feeling self-conscious. My cheeks felt hot. I knew it meant I was blushing, and I could only hope she wouldn't notice. "Thanks, but I have my own crumbling relationship to attend to."

"_Crumbling_ relationship?" she echoed and straightened up. "You didn't say it was like _that_!"

The way she jumped through topics made my head spin. Normally I'd think she was extremely rude, sticking her nose to other people's businesses as if she were some female version of Dr. Phil. From some reason, coming from her, I didn't mind it. I'd never had a friend I could confide in. It felt nice to be able to talk to someone. And I trusted her enough to tell her all about the Jacob thing. "I tried to break up with him during the summer. It didn't quite work out the way I planned."

"Oh, I see," she said. Her eyes were distant. It took me a moment to realize she was addressing herself.

"Hey, what's your brother's name?"

Her eyes were glinting mischievously as she winked at me. "Interested?"

"_Curious_!" I backfired, laughing. It was easy to forget I'd only known her for a couple of hours.

"Anthony," she replied, her eyes strangely distant again. "His name is Anthony."

xoxox

It was one of the busiest weeks in my life. Even during finals and graduation, I had more time for myself than during orientation week in Juilliard. We met with faculty members and our classmates. We did small workshops where we had to introduce ourselves, and heard lectures by staff members and a few of the school's alumni. I knew everything we'd done was supposed to prepare us for the opening of the semester the following week, but the truth was that every day had made me impossibly more terrified. Everyone looked so professional, so experienced, and then there was me. I all but clung to Alice's side, hoping her liveliness would somehow project on me and make me appear less scared than I'd felt.

On the second day, we went over the curriculum for the program we were enrolled into. There was so much to do and I wondered if there was really enough time to do it all. I'd already chosen my elective courses. Ballet was my top interest, so I had to take everything that had to do with it, but since I had another option for a dance-related course, I was going to take Jazz with Alice. Tap was my other option, and while it sounded like fun, I didn't see myself do anything of the sort. Leave that to the musical theatre people, I told myself. We also had to take a few course from the Humanities division, but I was on my own on that one. Alice was going to take something in philosophy because she had a friend who was taking it too. I signed up for a literature and film course, and I was grateful for the opportunity to study something I was actually interested in. The thought of sitting through a philosophy course made my skin crawl.

All in all, as crazy as this week had been, it had been a productive one. I was beginning to link names to faces. By the end of the week, I knew everyone in our suite, and most people next door. There were a few more dancers aside from us in our floor. Millie wasn't that far from home. She came from Boston and like me, she had still expected the administrative staff to find some mistake with her registration. It was easy for me to like her; she was too much like me. Shannon was from Miami, and she had the flexibility of a contortionist. She'd been a cheerleader through most of her high school years, which didn't surprise me one bit. She reminded me Alice's friend from the audition.

Speaking of which, her name was Anya and she really was Russian. Her English was a bit rusty, so we all tried to talk slowly next to her. She was really lovely. Her dad worked for the United Nations or something, so she'd been in New York for about a year already. Since her family hadn't planned on going home for a few more years, they thought it was best if she'd maintain her dancing lessons here.

Anya wasn't the only foreigner to study with us. Camellia was from Italy, and you could easily mistake her and Alice for relatives, if not sisters. Their height was the same, their way of speech was similar, and they were both interested in contemporary dance. Camellia's English was better than Anya's, and when she was speaking fast, you sort of forgot it wasn't her native language. It was amazing to watch her and Alice chatter away. Amazing and somewhat disorienting, I have to say.

So by the time the orientation week came to a close, we had our small circle of friends. We went together to the annual picnic the school had organized, at the end of that week. The weather was incredible: the sun was out but it wasn't too hot; the sky was remarkably blue. From my past experience of summers in Forks, I half expected clouds to disrupt that clarity at any moment, but it had never happened. The sky remained perfect and clear throughout the afternoon.

It was nice just to hang out with people we'd come to know throughout the week. We weren't strangers anymore. Watching everyone now, I thought that despite the lack of confidence I'd experienced throughout the week, despite the second thoughts and desperation, despite the exhaustion that was a result of a massive lack of sleep, I really could do this. I wasn't alone with those feelings. I knew Anya was scared shitless that she wouldn't be able to understand a word in her elective courses, and that she would be kicked out. So I constantly tried to remind myself that I had a better starting point than she had. At least I spoke the language. There was no reason why I wouldn't be able to fit in here.

It was funny. Even in the picnic, people had already sort of oriented themselves around their respected divisions. Dancers sat with dancers, actors with actors, musicians with musicians. As I let my eyes drift across the park, my mind suddenly wandered to Edward Cullen. He'd said he was starting his second year, but it had just dawned on me I hadn't seen him at the residence hall all week. There were few more days until the beginning of school, so it was plausible he wasn't even in New York yet, but considering the fact I hadn't seen him in Forks all summer, I didn't know where else he would be. The picnic was a school tradition, but I didn't know enough people around to know if it was for first years only.

Not that it mattered much if he _were_ here. It's not like I'd go and talk to him, I scolded myself, blushing at the thought. There was this part of me who regretted the abrupt ending of our previous conversation, that same part who longed to find him in the crowd and continue it. But at the same time, I tried to be realistic. He might have remembered my name at the auditions, but that could be only because he'd heard it being announced. What if I found him and started a conversation, and he didn't even remember my name this time? I'd be well humiliated if _that_ happened.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Alice's voice sounded right next to me. I blinked and realized she was watching me curiously. Her eyes wandered in the direction of my gaze, and her curiosity seemed to increase. "Who are you looking for?"

"No one," I replied, tearing my eyes away from the crowd. I wasn't upset, I reminded myself. Of course I wasn't. I hardly knew him. "No one," I repeated, hoping, if anything else, to reassure myself.

xoxox

But when his absence still bothered me hours after I'd first thought about it, I realized I couldn't fool myself. Although why I would be disappointed was beyond me. He'd never specifically said he was going to be there. He hadn't even mentioned the picnic the last time (well, actually, the first time) we'd spoken. What difference did it make, really? I hadn't seen him for months, not since my audition. I had a higher chance to see him in Forks than here today among all these people, and I hadn't. Why would I care so much?

Luckily, Alice was too distracted by her new friends that she remained oblivious to my distress. She didn't question me about whom I was looking for again throughout the day. When I talked to my mom later that evening, she was glad to hear I was doing well. She said it sounded as if Alice and I were close friends already, and we really had been. But I still had this odd feeling I'd seen her before. It lingered there throughout the week, deserted and unexplored, but now when the week's activities were over, it sort of resurfaced, and didn't let me go. My mind went back to the day of the auditions, when she had first caught my eye. I had that same feeling even then, I now remembered.

I glanced over to the bed across the room. I could hear her breathing, but I wasn't sure if she was asleep yet. "Alice?" I whispered, just in case she wasn't.

"Hmm?"

Maybe I shouldn't say anything. It felt silly to bring it up. But, then again, if I didn't… "Are you sure we've never met before?"

She shifted in her bed. In the semi-darkness, I saw her prop herself on one elbow. "What are you talking about?"

"When I saw you in the audition I had this strange feeling we'd met before. And then you looked up at me and it felt as if you recognized me." I knew how absurd I sounded. I was too tired to think straight, that was it. I was making it all up, most likely.

"Bella, I've never met you in my life before you showed up in this room at the beginning of this week." The confidence in her voice was reassuring. I was overly stressed that day in the audition. Who knows, maybe Edward Cullen wasn't even as good-looking as I remembered. Alice probably didn't even look in my direction that day, and I was making things up. "You're delirious. Get some sleep."

"Yeah, I guess I should," I agreed through a yawn. I laid back and pulled the covers over my head. We had the whole day off the next day, and we planned to do some sightseeing with some friends. I was really looking forward to that, but right now I could barely think about the next day. I was so exhausted that it ached; I could feel it sipping into my bones.

As I slowly drifted, I heard Alice murmur my name. "Bella?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm really glad they paired us together."

I thought I replied, but I wasn't sure. A moment later everything went blank as I sank beneath the deep waves of a dreamless slumber.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: so it takes **_**this**_** big an inconsistency to bring some of you out of hiding! I replied some of your reviews, but I thought I'd do a general comment, so, RE: the Alice issue – just keep reading. It'll clear out… I think. Cookies to the first who figures it out ;)**

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Chapter Six – Edward

As I had expected, going back to New York and starting school was a relief. I could just immerse myself in my studies and my music. Avoiding other things didn't require excuses or justifications. The fact I didn't have to reside on school grounds was even better under the current circumstances – it provided me the distance I was so desperately in need for. I couldn't risk just bumping into Bella in the residence halls, if indeed she'd been accepted like my dad had said. I knew that one look at her would be enough to bring my determination crushing. There was no way I'd be able to resist her if I ever came face to face with her again.

During my last few days at Forks, after the day I had learned the truth about her and Jacob Black, I'd been numb and apathetic. Everything went by me, and I couldn't care less. Unfortunately, those last few days were the only time people had expected me to be nice and sociable because of my parents' party. I wasn't in the mood for my aunt's warmth, Alice's vigor or my grandfather's resenting comments about my studies, but there was no getting away from any of it. I tried to keep to myself. I spoke little. I responded to my parents' requests mechanically. I played the piano when I'd been asked to. Emmett suspected something was wrong, of course, but I dismissed his concern. What could I possibly tell him? 'Remember Jacob's girl from Forks? Well, guess what?' It even sounded ridiculous. I had no right to be bitter about her being with Jacob. She didn't even know that I was…

Ugh, this was useless. I couldn't just erase her off my mind. Things didn't work that way. I knew what Emmett was going to say about all this, and for once I was grateful to have him across the state from me. I kept my grim mood from Alice the best I could. I couldn't risk her finding out; who knew what she'd do about it. The thought alone made me shudder. You could never know what Alice had been up to.

Keeping things from Alice turned out to be easier than I'd initially thought. I'd hardly seen her since school had started. I first saw her in the philosophy course we had together. We just couldn't find the time to get together before that. She'd been in Manhattan longer than I had, because she needed to attend the orientation week activities. We'd spoken on the phone a few times, and judging from her excited babble, I could tell she was quite content there. She was obviously having a great time. While living on my own had been a relief, it was nice to know she was only a phone call away. Even if she couldn't do anything to help (I was determined not to tell her the truth behind my gloom), her very presence was enough to distract me.

It was kind of pathetic of me, to count on distractions that way, but it was Friday and it was working already. I hardly thought of her at all in the passing week. But then, whenever I stopped to be proud of my success, I figured I was fooling no one but myself. She was always in the back of my mind, waiting to take advantage on any moment of weakness on my side. As soon as I let my defenses drop, she'd reappear. Nothing I did was going to make any difference.

But let her try.

As I hurried down the hall towards my next class, my mood brightened considerably as I realized I was headed towards another distraction. I heard rumors about Mr. Shapiro, my new piano teacher. Rosalie had said the man had been the terror of the music division, and I knew it took a lot for Rose to say such a thing about anyone. I knew it meant he wouldn't let me get away with less than hard work, which, under the circumstances, was just what I'd hoped for.

Determination put aside, I was slightly scared when I knocked on the door before our first meeting. I almost chickened out and turned back, when a faint 'come in' sounded from the other side of the door. I poked my head in. The light in the room was dim, a sharp contrast to the brightly-lit hallway. I squinted in the semi-darkness. "Sir?"

"Mr. Cullen, I presume?"

His voice was booming, with confidence more than with hostility, but there was some softness hidden there, too. I nodded, still standing on the doorway, feeling like I'd been summoned to the principal's office. I'd always got along with my teachers before, from kindergarten through school and up until college. I hadn't even met this man and already I was intimidated by him. But as things were, I was stuck with him for the following year, so I might as well ignore urban legends (or school legends as it was) and act my age. I swallowed my fear, forced myself to get a grip, and walked into the room.

I wasn't prepared for what I found inside. Mr. Shapiro was a cross between Santa Claus, Professor Dumbledore and _Fame_'s Mr. Shorofsky. I'd braced myself for no-nonsense air and a constant frown, but instead, he was smiling warmly. His eyes were bright and alert, blue behind his glasses. His hair was grayish white and cut short; his facial hair was nearly white as well. He had on an old-fashioned gray suit. His jacket was unbuttoned, revealing a plaid waistcoat underneath. He looked as if he'd been trapped in the forties. I was tempted to search the room for a hat and a cane.

"Pleased to meet you, young man. I'm Abraham Shapiro," he said, his hand outstretched. His voice was hoarse but pleasant, and he spoke with no accent, although I'd half expected him to. I hesitated, but then shook his hand. His grip was firmer than I'd imagined it to be. I wasn't in the room for five minutes, and already surprised by this man. "First, I have to apologize for not being able to meet you sooner," he started. We had sessions planned for both Monday and Wednesday, but I was notified these two had been canceled. "I had some urgent family matters to attend to. Not entirely professional of me, which will be your first lesson for today; you should not consider me a role model for life!"

"I'll try to remember that, Sir," I replied, slightly dazed. For one crazy moment, he reminded me of Alice with her ongoing chatter.

"Well, sit down, sit down," he said, ushering me towards the piano by the window. There was more light on that side of the room. I sat down slowly. "I have to say I'm quite looking forward to our lessons. I've heard a lot about you."

"You have?"

"You were Mr. Larsen's student last year, weren't you? He mentioned your name once or twice, and I got to see you in last year's recital. I knew I had to be your teacher then, but luckily, one administrative force or another has paired us together before I even had the chance to bribe someone into it!"

His sincerity touched me. There was something so real, so direct, about this man. "As long as I don't let you down, Sir," I said. I could feel uncertainty sneaking into my voice. I didn't know what Mr. Larsen had told him about me, but I could sense this man sitting in front of me wouldn't accept anything but the highest standards.

"Somehow, I don't think that you will, Mr. Cullen," he said, keeping his gaze locked on mine. There was so much trust in his eyes. It was impossible to look away. "Let's get to work, shall we? I'll explain what I had planned for you for this year, but first, let's hear from you."

"I'm sorry, Sir?" I asked, confused.

"I want you to play something for me."

"Like what?"

"Anything," he shrugged, his eyes leering at me. "Surprise me."

I could see the intention in his eyes. He was testing me. Exams weren't a big deal for me, but the thought of being the subject of someone's inspection while playing had always made me nervous. I searched my mind for something that would impress him, but I could think of none. I knew several compositions by heart, but I was afraid that under the circumstances I'd mess them up and make a fool out of myself in front of him. I hated the thought of letting him down at such an early stage of our acquaintance, especially after praising me the way that he had.

But there _was_ something I could play to him. There was one melody that stood out because it was simpler, not as sophisticated as the other ones I had in mind. That one tune that had haunted me for weeks now. The piece from her audition.

A chair screeched against the wooden floor. I looked up with a start. Mr. Shapiro brought a chair closer to the piano and sat on it. He leaned back with his arms across his chest and gave me that intent look again. There was expectation in his eyes. "Go ahead, Mr. Cullen. Dazzle me."

Completely aware of his inspecting gaze, I was a bit hesitant when I placed my fingers on the keys, when the first few sounds resonated around the room. Soon there was nothing but music around, and I wasn't even in the room anymore. I was weeks away, in a different room, watching her as she danced to those same sounds. And even if it was only in my mind's eye, even if she was nothing but a phantom image, I was unable to look away. I wanted to hold on to the music, knowing she'd fade once it had ended, and I didn't want her to fade. If this was my only chance to have one moment with her, I never wanted that moment to end.

I was almost reluctant to finish the piece when it came to a close. I let my fingers linger against the keys a moment too long. Then slowly, I opened my eyes, and released the breath I didn't even realize I was holding.

"Well, well, well, I was right," Mr. Shapiro murmured, but he had that distant look in his eyes, as if he was talking to himself rather than to me. "Well done, Mr. Cullen," he added, as if he remembered I was still in the room, but his gaze was unreadable to me. He didn't say anything else, and I didn't know if that was a good sign or a bad one. I didn't want to question it.

The rest of the hour passed in a blur. We went over Mr. Shapiro's plan for the upcoming year. Chopin, Debussy, Brahms, Mozart and some others I couldn't remember. I had played most of them before. He didn't linger on particular titles though. He said he wanted to make sure I'd be coming back the following week, and that suspense was necessary. But whether he actually feared me not coming back or whether he was joking, I had the distinct feeling he and I were going to get along well.

He dismissed me in a five minutes delay, and I had to run to make it for my next class in time. I rushed down the hall, pushing my way in the bustling hallways, murmuring apologies as I did. I knew I wouldn't be able to find a good seat for my next class unless I hurried. My next class had nothing to do with music at all. It was one of those elective courses every Juilliard student had to take in addition to the divisional courses. Since last year had been too busy to take anything that wasn't music-related, this year I had to take two courses instead of just one. I had the philosophy one with Alice and now this one, something about literature and film. It was a nice break from music history and ear training and all those other things that had soon become a routine.

As I pushed the door open, I was surprised to see that the room was pretty empty. It was a known fact that elective courses were deliberately small, but there were hardly five people present. Unless they'd been kept after their previous classes, like I had been. There were about six available seats; I scanned the room, wondering where would be best to settle down.

And then I saw her.

After what had just happened in Mr. Shapiro's class, it was as if someone up there was mocking me. Only this time she really was there, more tangible than any hallucination I'd ever have. She wasn't even aware of my existence – of _anyone_'s existence, by the looks of it. She was sitting with her back to the door, which was why I hadn't noticed her right when I came in. She seemed to have come straight from a dance class because she still had her black outfit on, with a green cardigan tied around her shoulders. Her hair was down, drooping like a curtain in front of her face, but I didn't need to see her face to know it was her. She was reading, but she leaned against the table in a way that made it impossible for me to catch a glimpse of the text. Her backpack, worn-out and orange, was on the seat on her left. The seat on her right was empty.

Standing in the doorway felt like an eternity but it couldn't have been more than a few seconds. Before I realized what I was doing, I walked over to her and put my bag on the table next to her. She raised her head instantly. I saw her hold back a gasp, and I kicked myself for startling her. "Hi," I smiled, hoping it would distract her from the quiver in my voice. I nodded towards the seat next to her. "Is this seat taken?"

Surprise shifted into recognition by now. She shook her head. "No. Go ahead."

She watched me as I pulled the chair back and sat down. It made me feel self-conscious. I couldn't believe my good luck, spending the entire semester in a class with her. Good luck, or extremely bad one. I could see how sitting next to her was becoming a downright torture. Whoever it was up there, he wasn't just mocking me. He was teasing me, plain and simple. If it had been a test of some sort, I was already failing miserably. I tried to compose myself. Surely it wouldn't help if I grinned like an idiot. "What are you reading?"

"Oh. It's just…" Her voice trailed off as she closed her book and pushed it in my direction. It was a very battered copy of _Pride and Prejudice_. I pushed it back, offering her a weak smile. She crossed her arms on the table; the title disappeared beneath her elbows. "It takes my mind off things," she explained, blushing, as if it was a confession she didn't plan on making.

"My mom named me after a character from one of Austen's novels," I found myself say. A second later, I felt like kicking myself. Some pick up line. Thank God Emmett wasn't around to hear this one; he would have roared.

I almost expected her to roll her eyes or say something nasty, but she didn't. Instead, she nodded, and the color in her cheeks deepened a little. "_Sense and Sensibility_ is my favorite," she shyly replied, meeting my eyes briefly before she looked away.

I couldn't believe she was actually taking me seriously. I didn't deserve that. Here I was, making a move on a girl whose boyfriend I'd known for years, a girl I'd promised myself I'd never think of again. What was wrong with me? "So how is school?" I asked, mainly to get my mind of what I was doing. I didn't seem able to stop talking to her, so I might as well stick to safe topics. "I told you you'd get in."

"Yeah, you did," she said meekly. She lowered her gaze; I was transfixed by the way her eyelashes drooped. Luckily, soon she spoke again, and I snapped out of it. "It's fine. Busy, but I'm having a great time," she said, her eyes meeting mine again. She tried to appear confident, but I could see she was still scared, as if she really didn't think she belonged here. I thought that at the end of the day, every student in Juilliard had felt that way through at least one semester.

"I heard you were in Forks this summer." I regretted saying that as soon as the words were out. There was this quizzical look in her eyes now, and although she didn't turn her back on me or anything, her expression became more reserved and somewhat cautious. Smooth move, jackass. Now she'd think I was stalking her or something. "My dad happened to mention it," I added, hoping the explanation would redeem me.

"Oh. Yeah, I… I didn't know you were in town too. I mean I assumed you did, but I didn't…"

I waited for more, but that was all she said. I tried to decode her statement. Why would she care if I were in town or not? Why would she even think of me while visiting her dad and boyfriend? Was I beginning to hear things or was that an invitation hidden somewhere in that stammered statement?

Don't go there. Safe topics. Right. "So did you have a nice summer?"

"Yeah, I guess I did," she replied in a melancholic sort of voice, one which I couldn't quite pinpoint. She was smiling again, but it wasn't the same warm smile from before. It was almost as if I'd said something to put her off. Unfortunately I couldn't ponder over that because this was when our lecturer stepped in and started class.

I had to struggle to listen. My mind was everywhere but in the right place. It was a shame, really, because I'd been looking forward to taking this course, after not being able to take it the year before. I was taking notes like crazy even though no one had ever had in the first class, simply for something to do. I was all too aware of her presence, sitting there next to me. I was sitting so close I got a whiff of her shampoo every now and again. Strawberries, and some other flower I couldn't really recognize.

I tried not to steal too many glances in her direction, fearing she'd catch me in the act. Luckily, she didn't seem to notice. She sat with her back to me, leaning on her right elbow and facing the board. Her hair drooped over her shoulder again, hiding her face from me. Unlike before, now it bothered me. It took all I had not to reach out and tuck it behind her ear. She spoke occasionally, and I could see Mr. Bronson, our lecturer, was impressed by some of the points she'd made. I was impressed too. She was one of those smart but modest people, those who knew a lot but never bragged about it. She'd happily stay away from the spotlights if given the chance. It made me wonder what she was doing in a place like Juilliard, where most students throve on the spotlights.

And then, before I knew it, it was over. I didn't even realize we were dismissed until I heard chairs squeaking and people beginning to leave. It was my last class today, so I took my time putting everything back in my bag. I was telling myself it was because I wasn't hurrying anywhere, but the truth was I didn't want to have to leave the room before she did. As long as she stayed there, I wanted to stick around. And then I thought of something, but dismissed it as soon as the idea invaded my mind. No. I couldn't possibly do that. It sounded like something Emmett would do. I had always denounced him for things of that sort. If I did that now, how was I any better than him?

But then again, what did I have to lose? Absolutely nothing. She'd already thought I was weird, I was sure of that. I stole a glance around. The only people who were still in the room didn't mind us. There were no witnesses, either. No one was there to watch me, to judge me, to mock me in case I failed. No one would ever know.

But what about what I'd seen in Forks? We were miles away, but I couldn't be blind to the fact that she had a boyfriend. Even if she didn't know I knew, it wouldn't be fair to put her in a situation like that. I didn't care about Jacob Black, but she was his girl, and I shouldn't put myself in his way because it wouldn't be friendly. I would have wanted him to do the same for me, had the tables been turned.

Ah, to hell with it. Competition was a healthy sport.

She was about to walk passed me to the door. I saw she meant to say something, probably a goodbye, and I decided to act before it was too late. "Bella," I started. I watched, mesmerized, the way her lips slowly pressed against one another as she looked up at me questionably. I didn't stop to apologize for cutting her off so abruptly. If I stopped, I'd lose my nerve, and I didn't want to risk that. "I was wondering… will you have coffee with me?"

She halted, and her cheeks flushed. She blinked once, as if thinking she'd misheard me. I didn't look away, making sure the invitation lingered in my stare. She ran a hand through her hair in what seemed like hesitation. I realized I was holding my breath for her answer. "I'm sorry, I can't."

It felt as if someone had kicked me right in the stomach. Somehow, I didn't consider her rejection as anything remotely possible. Of course, it was more plausible than her saying yes, with Jacob Black in the background and all that. But I wanted her to say yes so badly that I'd managed to convince myself that she would. I was relying on that fact. So stupid.

"I have a class," she added, looking down at her outfit, which I'd assumed she'd worn because of a previous class. I realized my mistake now. I didn't want to think of how I'd probably looked to her, staring at her dumbly, but before I knew what happened, she smiled again. "Some other time, okay?"

"Uh, sure," I mumbled, not quite sure where did that come from. I watched her as she left the room and hurried down the hall towards her next class. It wasn't a yes, but it wasn't a complete rejection either. Unless she said it just to be nice. I could feel the last drop of determination melting to the floor. I said I wouldn't think of her anymore, but clearly, I'd been unable to keep this promise. I couldn't believe I was stooping so low as to make a move on someone else's girlfriend when he wasn't there to put up a fight. I felt so guilty.

Maybe I didn't have to. She didn't turn me down, from whichever reason, I reminded myself. If he was her boyfriend, she should have let me down. She didn't look like the kind of girl who'd cheat on her boyfriend just because he wasn't around. Maybe it meant something, I thought. Maybe things between Jacob and her weren't as picture perfect as I'd imagined. Who knew what happened that summer. She didn't seem too thrilled when I asked her about it; maybe it had something to do with that.

As I headed in the opposite direction than the one she'd just taken, I couldn't help the smile that curled on my lips. _Some other time_. It was the sweetest of promises.

xoxox

The first week back was hectic and by the time it was the weekend, I had about million things to do. When Alice came over on Sunday afternoon, she found me by the piano, where I'd spent most of the morning. Mr. Shapiro had assigned me one of Brahms' lullabies for our Monday session, and I was determined to play it to perfection. She came well equipped with one of her dance outfits and some outrageous hairy leg warmers I knew she'd gotten from Rose for her latest birthday. It was a study date of sorts. She had a short piece for her composition class to work on, and I still had my lullaby to practice.

Unfortunately, Alice didn't go much beyond her warm ups. Two walls in the living room were replaced with glass so they were actually two giant windows. One of them opened to a small balcony, but the glass door that led to it was currently close because it was getting cold out. Alice walked over to one of them and sighed wistfully as she looked outside. She seemed transfixed by the view, and I couldn't blame her. We were eighteen floors above the ground and it was easy to get distracted by Manhattan at dusk. I couldn't afford distractions now, but apparently Alice could. She just sort of stood there with her nose stuck against the glass. Her attention span had always been short lived. Showing her the view from Emmett and Rosalie's apartment in the middle of her dance practice was like putting something shiny under her nose.

"How did you even get permission to move in here?" she asked, tearing her eyes away from the windows. She seemed reluctant to do so.

I let my fingers fly against the keys in some random scales. "I can be very persuasive."

She wrinkled her nose in what I'd come to know as discontent. "And the real answer?"

"You don't believe me?"

She let out a short laughter before she came to sit cross-legged on a huge cushion she'd previously laid on the floor. "Edward, you're a charmer and I don't doubt your ability to talk any woman into biding your every command, but I have hard time picturing you work that charm on Mrs. Bender."

Mrs. Bender was the director of the Office of Students Affairs. We'd met her occasionally during school events, but overall she wasn't a woman you wanted to mess with. Considering it was only her first week at school, Alice seemed to have realized it insanely fast. "I wrote a letter to the Office of Student Affairs and explained the situation. It took a few months and several meetings, but at least they said yes."

"Ugh, you're lucky. Too bad Emmett and Rose are coming back next year. I won't be able to join in too, it will be too crowded."

"What's wrong with your room?" I didn't remember the rooms at the residence halls as horrific. It was definitely better than other dorms which I'd heard horror stories about. Her complaint caught me off-guard. I hadn't got the impression she didn't like it.

"It's okay. I'd like to have my own space though." She'd had her own space all her life, being an only child. Her parents had always spoilt her rotten. I had the final result of that ongoing coddling sitting in front of me now, pouting.

"Come on, I'm sure it's not that bad. Is your roommate nice, at least?"

"Yeah, she's alright."

She said it dismissively, as if she wasn't truly interested. "What's her name?"

Her moods changed as fast as her conversation topics. She flashed me a devilish grin, her own troubles all forgotten. "Interested?"

"Curious!" I threw a pencil at her. It shouldn't surprise me anymore, but it had always had. I'd say something to her, and she'd always interpret it differently than I'd initially intended, especially when girls were concerned.

"Belle."

She had to be kidding me. That someone up there had to be kidding me along with her. "Belle?"

"Yeah. She's, umm, French. You know, from France."

I eyed her carefully. "Yeah, Alice, that's usually where French people come from," I said slowly. There was something else. I couldn't put my finger on it, but she was hiding something. "What are you not telling me?" I wondered aloud.

"Why do you think I'm not telling you something?" she asked, her expression angelic. All the more suspicious, in her case.

"What does she do?"

"She's in the music division. An opera singer." She paused as if she noticed I was searching her face, and huffed impatiently. "Really, Edward, keep up those investigations and I'll think you really are interested in her!"

"I haven't even met her, Alice," I pointed out, rolling my eyes.

"We can always do something about _that_," she winked at me.

_Ugh_. I had to give the poor girl _something_ or I'd hear about this opera singer all year. "I'll save you the trouble. Opera singers are not my thing."

"_Oh_! _Now_ we're getting someplace! Then what _is_ your thing, if you don't mind my asking?"

But I did mind, and I let the question hang unanswered, because the last thing I could tell my cousin was that it was a dancer I'd been after.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven – Bella **

The first time Edward Cullen asked if he could sit next to me in class, I thought it was a single incident. This was why I secretly cherished every second of it, like indulging on expensive chocolate. I felt extremely guilty for doing that, but I couldn't help it. It was stronger than me, as strong as an impulse. Then, the Friday afterwards, he took a seat beside me as if it was the most obvious thing in the world for him to do. A week later, I wasn't surprised that he saved me a seat.

Conversation came naturally with him. It wasn't difficult to find my way with words around him, which kind of caught me off-guard because I wasn't a talkative person by nature. With him around, I wasn't shy or embarrassed. I met his queries with queries of my own. I still blushed occasionally when I said more than I thought I should have, but it wasn't something I could blame him for; I'd never had control over that unfortunate trait.

He always asked me about books I was reading, so we found ourselves discussing mostly that in the little time we had before class. Like me, he had a special place in his heart for classics. Poe and James were his favorites. He enjoyed more contemporary literature, too. He didn't like poetry or science fiction, but he didn't mind fantasies. He thought Austen and Bronte wrote what he referred to as Victorian chick flicks. He teased me endlessly when I confessed my favorite novel was _Wuthering Heights_, but not in a way that would make me uncomfortable. On the contrary. It was… different. I hated myself for the comparison, but I'd never discussed books with Jacob. It just… wasn't his thing, I guessed. I didn't even think he had favorite authors, favorite books. It made me think how little I'd really known about Jake.

Thinking about Jacob always brought to mind that first time Edward had sat beside me, and his invitation at the end of that class. I still couldn't believe I hadn't turned him down as I obviously should have done. The worst part about it was that I was sort of disappointed by having to turn him down. If I didn't have that class afterwards, I probably would have gone to have coffee with him.

So what if I had? Who said he meant it as a date? He was from my dad's town. We would just be two friends who were catching up over coffee.

Then again, we could do some catching up before class, and never once had we spoken about Forks.

Ugh. I was overreacting. It really wasn't that big a deal. I just needed to forget about it. _He_ probably wasn't wasting any sleep on it; there was no reason why _I_ would.

On the forth week, I walked to class with Anya. She started a different course at the beginning of the semester, but dropped it because she didn't like it. She hoped this course would help her practice her English, and would give her a taste of a different culture. She heard me tell Alice about this course, and got a permission to switch courses. On the way there, I sort of wondered if Edward was already there and if he saved me a seat again. I tried to ignore the way my heart was beating slightly faster than usual in what I knew was anticipation, but I knew I'd better not raise my hopes up. Disappointment wasn't healthy or fun.

But when we walked in, there he was, looking up at me as I pushed the door open, and removing his bag from the chair that was meant for me. Anya seemed kind of taken aback, basically because I hadn't told the girls anything about him. There wasn't much to tell, really. He was just a guy who happened to live close to my dad's, who took a course with me. We talked a little. End of story. It paled comparing with some of the other girls' stories.

The truth was that I didn't want to mention Edward's name next to Alice. She was a great roommate and my closest friend, but she was still speaking endlessly about her brother. She knew about Jacob, but it was as if she expected me to just dump him and have her brother instead. She wasn't very realistic, but she was _persistent_. It was obvious that so far in her life she'd always got her way. It got to a point where her not-so-inconspicuous attempts began to make me uncomfortable. I didn't even want to imagine what might happen if I even started speaking about someone else while constantly rejecting her brother.

Not that I was interested in Edward in that way. Not at all. It wasn't like that. It was just fun talking to him.

His eyes wandered from me to Anya and back to me again, but the slight confusion in his stare quickly settled into the warm smile he'd always greeted me with, whether I'd been the first of us to arrive or not. I returned his smile as Anya and I settled in our seats. I saw the curiosity in Anya's eyes at our silent exchanged, but I knew she wouldn't ask me anything, she wouldn't even risk a whisper, until we were alone. "Anya, this is Edward, Edward – Anya," I introduced them.

"Are you new in this class?" he asked her after they shook hands.

Anya nodded as she took out her notepad and a few colorful pens. She was organized like I'd never seen before in my life. She'd said it helped her focus on the language. "I to be in Science and Art class. I hope this course to improvise my English."

"Improve," I corrected her, and she smiled at me gratefully. It had become a habit of ours, but I kind of liked her broken English. It was unique, it had character. It added to her charm.

"If you need help settling in, you're welcome to borrow my notes, if you don't mind my handwriting."

I snorted. He had _perfect_ handwriting, neater than mine. Neater than any guy's I'd known, for that matters.

"Thank you, but I'm to catch up with Bella's notes."

There was this glint in his eyes when they shifted from her to me. He flashed a crooked grin at me. I had a feeling I knew what he was going to say. "I bet _you_ enjoyed our reading assignment," he said, mock-frowning at me.

I felt my lips curl into a smile in response. We were assigned sections from _Jane Eyre_ for this week's class. Guilt aside, it was impossible _not_ to think about him while reading it. We'd discussed his abhorrence to the Bronte sisters only two weeks ago. Reading one of them for this week's class must have been downright torture for him. "It's not one of my favorites, but yeah, I did enjoy it. I'm surprised that you actually survived it."

"I was this close to slitting my wrists." His expression indicated that he wasn't joking.

"You not to like _Jane Eyre_?" Anya asked.

"He thinks it's the worst book ever written," I said, rolling my eyes. I was sort of amazed with myself. Each week brought a new surprise, revealed a new part in myself I'd been unaware of. I hardly recognized this chatty girl. She was closer to Alice than she had been to me.

My reaction made him laugh. "No, I do not think it's the worst book ever written! I'm sure I can name a few others."

I knew exactly which ones he would have named. I shook my head, pretending to be horrified with him. "Really, Edward, have some respect to the books you got your name from."

"It's not my fault my mom has such bad taste in classics. Besides, you said it yourself. You're not a fan of _Jane Eyre_. The beginning is pretty good, I'll give her _that_. But you have to agree that the ending is completely absurd. It's too neat. It's not realistic."

"It's not supposed to be realistic!"

"Well, the last time I checked, it was taught under 'realism' in literature courses, so there you have it!"

I laughed. There wasn't much else to do. There was no point arguing with him; his case was set.

"Thank God I had a few Mozart pieces to get done for this week. A person needs to have _some_ balance in his life," he said, batting his lashes dramatically.

"You play?" asked Anya. I knew her boyfriend, who went to NYU, played the violin.

"Yeah, I play the piano."

"You play in auditions. I thought I to recognize you."

He ran a hand through his hair. He'd always done that in moments of discomfort, I noticed. There was something in his eyes, a flick of a shadow I couldn't decipher. But it was gone as soon as it had appeared. "Yeah, that was me."

"If you're not to like _Jane Eyre_, why are you in this course?"

"Because I hoped we would do more than just girly stuff," he replied, pretending to be sulking.

"I'm sure Mr. Bronson is saving the manly stuff to the end," I backfired.

He meant to answer, but Mr. Bronson, our lecturer, chose that moment to walk in. I pursed my lips, but I couldn't stop myself from grinning throughout the next half an hour or so. I remembered how baffled I'd been that first week. I could hardly get two words together. And now… It was just so easy to be myself around him, to tease him. It was almost as if we'd known each other for years, almost as if…

Almost as if he was Jacob.

I clutched my pen tighter in my hand, sending away the thought and the image that accompanied it. I wouldn't think about it now. I couldn't. I was making connections that weren't really there just because I missed Jacob. I wasn't comparing Edward and Jacob; I was replacing one for the other, because Jacob couldn't be with me right now.

Yeah, believe _that_, if that makes you feel better.

I dropped the pen. Edward caught it as it rolled in his direction. Our fingers touched briefly as he pushed the pen back to me. The tiniest spark, as sudden as an electric shock, made me pull my hand back with a gasp. We'd never touched before. Sure, we were sitting shoulder to shoulder, but it was never something like that. I could still feel it, prickling just beneath my skin. It made my cheeks grow hot, and I hoped no one had noticed me sitting there all perplexed. My heartbeat was suddenly too erratic. Once I was sure he wasn't looking, I tried to take a few deep breaths without drawing too much attention to myself.

But just when I got it all under control, something else occurred to me. My next class had been canceled. I remembered taking the message calmly this morning. But, this morning, it hadn't held the possibilities it did now.

His invitation had still sort of lingered at the back of my mind. He had never asked me again, but I assumed it was because he knew I had a class to get to right after this one. But now, this week, I didn't. I didn't need to make it up to him, but I kind of felt bad for having to turn him down. Could I possibly be courageous enough to ask him to have coffee with me?

Oh, please, I scorned myself. You act as if it's a date. It wasn't. We'd just be two friends who have coffee together.

I stole a glance at the watch on his wrist. There were ten minutes until the end of class. I'd always resented that time. It always felt as if things between us had been left unsaid, as if there were so many conversation topics we were yet to cover. But this week it didn't have to end. Not now, at least.

Anya had to hurry out when the class eventually ended. She waved goodbye to Edward and pinned me with a significant look before she disappeared, one which he obviously hadn't noticed.

"She's very nice," he commented when we packed our stuff.

"Yeah, Anya's great," I replied, distracted. If I was going to do it, I had to do it now. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other as I waited for him to zip his bag. I couldn't decide if it was impatience or just nerves. Either way, he seemed to notice.

"You're not rushing out today?"

"No, my class was cancelled."

"Oh." His expression was unreadable. There was no way to tell if he'd got the implications of that, or if I were the only one obsessing with overanalyzing everything.

Ah, to hell with it. It was no big deal. I could do this. "Hey, I was thinking…" My voice trailed off, but only for a second. It's nothing like that, I reminded myself, struggling to get a grip, to get my blushing under control. We're just friends. Right. "Are you still up for that coffee?"

It didn't take him more than a second to remember. There was the tiniest spark of uncertainty in his gaze, but it soon dissipated. "Sure."

He sidled to let me walk passed him. The moment I had my back to him, I sucked in a huge breath. Sure, it wasn't a date or anything, but it didn't make me feel less proud of myself.

xoxox

We didn't go to any of the cafeterias in the building or to the Starbucks right across the street. He led the way to a small café about a block away. Its name, _Maddie's_ glowed in soft red neon against one of the windows. He had discovered this place while searching for music books in a nearby alley last year; he said when he opened the door for me. It looked nice and warm, homelier than your average Starbucks. Little nooks and private sitting spots were created by faded, burgundy-colored sofas that were spread randomly across the room. We chose a table at the very back, where there was one long sofa along three huge windows. I scooted into a corner that was created between the wall and the window. He could sit either on a chair across from me, or next to me on the sofa. He chose the second.

A waiter came and went with our orders. For a moment, none of us said anything. It was kind of awkward, in a way I wasn't used to be with him. Things were never like that in class. There was always something to talk about. I didn't know why now would be different, but somehow it was.

"How's your brother doing? I haven't seen him since the wedding," I said eventually. I meant to ask him about his brother weeks ago, but never got a chance to.

"Emmett is fine. He's studying in UCLA."

"What's he studying?"

"Psychology and sports studies. He did his first degree here, but since Rosalie got a job in the West Coast, he did a transfer. They just moved last month."

"I bet it was fun to have him so close last year."

"Yeah, it was great. I was supposed to come and live with them this year, but then Rose got the job and the plans changed a bit. So now I'm watching their apartment for them."

"You don't live on school grounds?" It explained why I hadn't seen him around. But I didn't even know it was possible to live elsewhere while you attended Juilliard.

"No, I got a permission to stay at my brother's place. I think they didn't give me trouble because it's really a few minutes' walk from here."

The waiter was back with our orders then. I added some sugar to my coffee and stirred it slowly. From the corner of my eye I saw him do the same.

"So how come I've never seen you around in Forks during the summer?"

"Maybe you weren't looking hard enough." My backfire was instinctive. I caught myself a second later, and my cheeks flared. I couldn't believe I'd actually said it.

"Maybe," he echoed, his smile enigmatic.

"I mostly stay indoors when I'm there anyway. Too cold," I said, wrinkling my nose. I brought my mug to my lips and blew on it before I took a small sip.

"So you like Phoenix better then?"

"Not really. It's too hot. I'm kind of searching the balance between these two," I laughed. "Here, maybe? I'm not here long enough to figure it out yet."

"You're going to love New York. It's the best place to be."

"Sounds like something my roommate told me when I first got here," I smiled, thinking of Alice.

"If you don't agree yet, then something is horribly wrong."

"I didn't have much chance to look around yet."

"Too busy with school?"

"God, yes. I didn't think it would be so exhausting."

"The first year is the hardest. There's a lot to get used to."

I wondered if he meant the homework, the endless hours of practice, or the homesickness. Probably all the above. "So how long have you been playing?"

"Well, here's a question," he said. His smile was melancholic, as if it wasn't the most pleasant of memories. It was intriguing. "I think I started piano lessons in elementary school, but it's one of those things you don't remember exactly when they started, as if it's always been there. Does that make sense?"

It did, sort of. For the next few minutes I listened to him as he told me a bit about some of the teachers who influenced him through the years, about his teachers in Juilliard, about his current private tutor, a Mr. Shapiro. He sounded sort of like Madame Claudine. My heart twitched when I thought about her. I meant to call her and tell her how things were going. My mom mentioned her a few times in her emails, saying that she'd asked about me, and I meant to at least send her a postcard and say I was okay, but now, four weeks into the semester, I was just too busy. Tonight, I thought. I'd stop and get a postcard on my way back. She deserved better.

"You okay?"

I blinked, suddenly realizing there was silence and he was watching me with concern. "Yeah. Sorry."

"You weren't here for a second."

"I was thinking about my ballet teacher at home. About how ungrateful I'm acting. I keep meaning to call her, but I never do." I was a bit surprised at myself for confessing this to him.

"You've been busy."

His tone was soft, soothing. It was sweet of him to say that, although I didn't know why he would be so protective of me. I shook my head. "That's not an excuse. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her. I didn't even consider Juilliard before she brought it up."

"Then you don't see yourself very clearly."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because if you did, you would have seen what I've seen in your audition," he said, letting his eyes meet mine. I was taken aback by what I found there. "You're one of the best dancers I've ever seen."

He echoed my previous question, and this time he listened while I was talking. Our conversation soon drifted from ballet to music. My knowledge of classical music was limited; I'd only known the pieces I'd danced to. He told me a bit about his favorite composers, and confessed that he'd composed himself when he was in the mood for it. We drifted into favorite bands, favorite songs, favorite videos. It felt we were still scraping the surface.

I meant to ask more about his family when I happened to catch a glance of the sky outside. I didn't realize how long we'd been sitting there. It was nearing dusk. His eyes followed mine, and he seemed surprised by this fact as well.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to keep you here for so long. I bet you've got a lot of things to do."

"Only about a million," I joked.

"If it's any comfort, I know how that feels," he said, signaling our waiter. When I tried to reach out for my bag to get my purse, he brushed my hand off with mock offence. The motion was gentle but determined. I got that funny feeling beneath my skin again, like hours ago when the tips of his fingers touched mine. I looked away, hoping he wouldn't notice me blushing.

We walked to the residence halls in silence, but it wasn't an awkward one. It'd been a while since I'd talked so much, I realized, and laughed as this realization hit me.

"What?" he asked, stopping on the sidewalk. We were in front of the building already. It really was just around the corner. A pang of disappointment hit, catching me off-guard.

"Nothing. I just had a really great time," I said, dropping my gaze to the sidewalk. _Now_ I felt awkward.

"We should do it again sometime," he said quietly.

It wasn't a question. I looked up. His eyes bore into mine, as if challenging me to speak against this statement. There was only one implication to the words, to his fathomless stare. I knew what came next, what _had_ to come next, and I braced myself against it. Jacob had never come up once in our conversation. There was no need to. But it looked like I had to mention him now. There was no easy way to do this. I'd never known how to turn people down. "Edward, look," I started. I could hardly look at him, but honesty was the least I owed him. "There's… someone else."

To my complete astonishment, he nodded solemnly. "I know."

"You _know_?"

"I… sort of put two and two together this summer."

That quiet voice again. It had a whole new meaning now. I couldn't help but wonder if that was why I'd never known he was in Forks during the summer. Was he deliberately avoiding me because he'd somehow found out about Jacob? But why would that even bother him? Why would he care? Well, at least I didn't lead him on. But from some reason, it didn't make me feel better about this.

"I didn't mean it like that though," his voice, soft and gentle, pulled me out of my self reproach. "I mean… we're friends. That's what friends do, right?"

It took me a second to realize he didn't mean it rhetorically. Somehow, hearing my own thoughts echoed back to me didn't feel as reassuring as it probably should have been. I slowly nodded. "Right."

"So we'll do it again?" he asked, a bit more hopeful. There was this glimmer in his eyes now that lightened the atmosphere.

I smiled, feeling slightly more comfortable. "Yeah, we'll do it again."

Only when I walked into the elevator, I remembered I didn't get the postcard for Madame Claudine.

xoxox

There were a few people in the common room when I walked in. Some of the guys were watching TV, and two girls with instruments were just on their way out. I spotted Anya in the corner of the room, away from the noisy TV set. She had a few books in front of her, one of them being her Russian-English dictionary. She didn't go anywhere without it. She was writing something, an essay, I assumed. She dropped her pen when she saw me come toward her, and smiled at me. "Are you busy?"

"Not really." I had a few stuff to read, but it was Friday. I could do it all tomorrow, I figured. "Why, do you need help?"

"No. Just to talk."

"Sure. I'll just change, okay?"

A pink post-it on the mirror informed me that Alice was working on her sequence for her modern dance class and not to wait for her. I took a quick shower and slipped into my most comfortable sweats. I stuck my feet into a pair of slippers and left the room.

Like she did earlier, Anya closed her books the moment she saw me.

"What's up?" I asked, sitting on the cushion across from her.

"This boy in class today," she started. I could already tell where she was going with it. "You to like him."

"Sure," I shrugged. "He lives where my dad does. Technically, I've known him for years."

"No. I mean you _really_ to like him."

I laughed nervously. "Anya, it's nothing like that."

"You don't see what others to see from side. I to look at you in class today."

I thought it was better if she didn't know I'd just spent the afternoon with him. "I don't know what you mean."

"I think he is to like you, too."

"Anya, I have a boyfriend," I whispered. It was kind of pathetic I needed this affirmation as badly as she had.

"My Babushka… grandmother… always says that boyfriend is no wall."

I laughed softly. "It doesn't really work that way."

"But you think he's cute, don't you?"

"Edward? Sure I do." But what sane, straight girl wouldn't?

"Good start, then," she said, smiling as if she knew something I didn't.

I knew she was one of the most discreet girls here, but I kind of wanted to keep this thing between us. I still wasn't thrilled about sharing all this with Alice. Not that there was much to share, but I wanted to keep the little there was to myself. Even if nothing happened. I knew Anya wouldn't say anything; she wasn't that type of girl. I knew I could trust her to keep a secret. And still, I hesitated when it was time to ask her that. "Anya, uhh… I know it's kind of weird of me to ask, but is it okay we keep this between us?"

Her English might have been broken, but her mind was sharp. "Why keep secret if nothing is going on?"

"Because…" My voice trailed off. There was no reason. Not a logical reason, anyway. "I just don't want people to jump to the wrong conclusion, that's all."

"If there is nothing to tell, then I will not tell."

"Thank you."

"You promise me something too?"

"Umm, sure," I said, kind of uncertain now.

"Don't give up because of boyfriend. I have good instances."

"Instincts."

"I think it can be good for you," she said and got up. She collected her books, murmured good night, and swiftly went into her room.

I sat there, staring at the city that stretched below me, and tried to figure out what the hell she meant by that.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight – Edward **

"… and you know how we're not supposed to go to tryouts yet because it's only our first year and all that, but Madame Patrova said that she didn't think I'd have any trouble getting into any ensemble I want even when I'm done with school and _Edward Anthony Cullen, you're not listening_!"

The loud shrill of her voice shook me brutally out of my musing. I winced and looked down guiltily. There wasn't much use in contradicting her, but I thought I'd try anyway. Not the brightest idea. "I _was_ listening, Alice."

"Oh, _were_ you?" she taunted. Her hands were on her hips as she glowered at me. She was standing right in front of me, and because I was sitting down, she had a certain height advantage. In her rage, she appeared larger than she had been. For someone as tiny as she had been, she was intimidating as hell. "What was the last thing I just said?"

I searched my mind furiously, but the images of my daydream took over, still very much alive in my memory. It was impossible to even improvise. "You said, umm, lots of things, but the last thing had something to do with, umm, dancing?" I managed, risking a glance up.

Her expression revealed that she wasn't sure if to be pissed off at me for not paying attention or pity me because I was obviously completely out of it. Then she sighed and shook her head. "Fine. I'll have mercy on you. But just this once, so don't get used to it!" she warned, reaching over to ruffle my hair before I could stop her. Then she landed on the sofa next to me and tucked her feet beneath her. "What is up with you these days, your mind is everywhere! Is something wrong?"

Yes, something was wrong. I was falling in love with someone who could never love me back. "Everything's fine, Alice. It's nothing."

I realized my slip only when her eyes lit up. It was too late to take back the words; she'd already bitten into her prey. "_Nothing_, huh? What's her name?"

"Alice, please, it's nothing you have to bother yourself with."

"When someone messes with your mind enough for you not to hear me when I speak, it does bother me," she argued, and I could tell she wouldn't let this one go easily. I sighed inwardly. Just great. "Edward, look at yourself! Have you got any sleep at all this weekend?"

"I'm fine," I muttered, looking away from her. I _was_ fine. I just needed some time away from Bella, that's all. Going out with her on Friday was a bad idea, and even though I asked her if we could do it again (which clearly was extremely idiotic of me), I'd make sure it would never happen. It was wrong to lead myself on when I knew it wouldn't get me anywhere. And I couldn't even blame her. I dug my own grave, as always.

"Emmett is just a phone call away, you know."

My head snapped up. The threat was there in her every word. "Alice, don't. I don't need Emmett on this. He has his own shit to handle with." From his most recent email, I knew he was busy way over his head with school and training. The last thing he needed was the troubles of his whiney young brother.

"I'll tell Esme something's the matter with you. She'll know how to handle this."

I tried to keep the panic away from my expression. "Alice, you are _not_ calling my mom."

"Well, I have to do _something_."

"Just… let it go."

"Who is she?" she pressed.

"You don't know her." I regretted the words the moment they were out, knowing I'd just confirmed her suspicions it was about some girl. It was impossible to say bits and pieces to Alice, and I wasn't sure I could handle confessing the whole truth to her. Not that there was that much to tell, but I wasn't sure I wanted to tell her the little there was.

"Does she like you?"

I thought about her smile, the glimmer in her eyes whenever they met mine, the way she hardly seemed like herself when she teased me about those girly books she liked so much. And if those weren't enough, _she_ asked _me_ for coffee a few days ago. It seemed quite clear, really. "Yeah, I think she does."

"Then what's the problem?"

I said nothing. I kept my gaze away from her and traced the leather pattern on the sofa with my finger. A moment later I felt it shift as she scooted close to me and covered my hand with hers. "I can't help you if you're keeping secrets with me," she said. I'd never heard her voice so soft before. I dared to look at her. Her gaze was earnest. I wanted to tell her. She was crazy sometimes, but she'd know not to do anything extreme under the circumstances. It's not like she'd advice me to catch the next flight to Seattle, drive to La Push, find Jacob Black and beat him senseless.

But what if she would?

"Thanks, Alice, but I need to solve this one on my own."

She squeezed my hand a bit. Her expression was unusually serious. "It hurts to see you like this."

I shook my head. "I'll get over it."

It was the one decision I intended to follow.

xoxox

For the next couple of days, I seemed to have everything under control again. I had enough to do for school, so I couldn't afford any distractions, which was good. I dreaded the thought of having to face Bella on Friday knowing that my mind was now set on getting over her. I was going to have to ignore her, no matter how painful it was going to be. I had to put an end to whatever had started between us, even if it was nothing but friendship.

I hated the thought of letting her down. I imagined the way her face would fall when I wouldn't return her smile, but only slightly, because she would want to pretend nothing was wrong. The light in her eyes would slowly dim, and her smile would freeze. But as grim as this image was, it was also kind of twisted. Why would I care she'd be hurt, if I was hurting right now, mostly because of her? I was going to do this so that I could go back to have a sane, normal life again. This was all her fault; she should feel how it felt.

My mind knew all that, but my heart disagreed.

I couldn't hurt her. I didn't want to hurt her. I was the one offering this friendship, and now I was going to go back on it. I didn't want to stop talking to her in class. If that was the one time I was allowed to be with her, I didn't want to give it up. I wanted to hold on to it.

I wouldn't think of Friday. I had two whole days to prepare myself towards it. In the meantime I had more important things to set my mind on, like finding Alice. She'd left a stack of books at my place a few nights ago, and she needed them back before Thursday. I had an hour to kill before my next class, so I tried to stick to her directions and find her. I could just drop it at her room, and I had pointed this fact out to her, but she had said our schedules had been too different and that she hadn't wanted her stuff to fall in the wrong hands in case I hadn't found her in her room.

So instead I was set out for a wild goose chase in a section of the building I'd never been to before. There were small studios along the hallway where people could rehearse privately, uninterrupted. Each door had a round window on its center. The silence in the hall was eerie and it made me slightly uncomfortable. I could hear my own footsteps echoing as I hastened my pace down the hall. The floor seemed deserted. I longed to get back downstairs, where the hallways were bustling with music of all sorts. Even if it seemed deafening at times, it was better than this.

Only when I passed the fourth door, I noticed a hint of movement inside. Thinking it might be Alice, I advanced towards the door and pressed my face against the small window.

The moment I did that, I wanted to turn back and leave, but I couldn't. It was as if my feet were glued to the floor, and my eyes refused to leave the glass. Fighting their old battle, my mind urged me to go on and find Alice, to leave and forget what I'd just seen, but my heart wouldn't hear of it.

The room was swimming in sunlight. She all but flew around it, spinning again and again with impossible grace, in response to music I couldn't hear from the other side of the door. Her eyes were half closed; an air of concentration wrapped around her like a mist. But somehow at the same time she looked peaceful, at ease. Perspiration glistened on her forehead, soaking the front and back of her leotard. The hair at the back of her neck was damp.

Spreading her arms seemed to give her more leverage. I knew those small backwards steps she did on her tiptoes probably had some professional term, probably in French, but whatever it was, I was clueless to it. I found myself holding my breath whenever her feet left the ground, then released it again when she landed unharmed. I knew next to nothing about dancing despite Alice's endless attempts to educate me, but I'd never seen anyone dance with such passion.

I was sure any moment she'd turn to face the door and discover me standing there gawking at her, but I couldn't move. Her outfit was cream-colored and sleeveless, and it clung to her like second skin. It made her legs look endless, which was a funny thought considering she wasn't exceptionally tall. It made me aware of her body in a way I'd never been before. When I first saw her dance, she was wearing black and the room was dim. Now the scene was much brighter, and I could fully appreciate each and every curve of her body, her narrow waist, the contour of her breasts, her long neck…

"Can I help you?"

It took me a second to realize the question was meant for me. Damn it. I could hear the reproach in her tone, whoever she was. I turned slowly, and to my surprise it wasn't a staff member who was standing behind me, but one of the students. She was wearing dark tights and a pink top, and her hair, dirty blond, was pulled back in a band. Her question echoed in her vicious glare.

"I'm, umm, looking for someone."

Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Who?"

"My cousin. Really short with short dark hair, do you know her?" I didn't owe her any explanations, but it felt as if she was challenging me.

"You mean Alice?" she asked, still suspicious. "She's five doors down that way."

She was still watching me, so I couldn't sneak one final glance at the one I really wanted to see. I murmured a quick 'thank you' and hurried passed her. I could still feel her eyes piercing my back even when I reached the door she'd directed me to.

I knew without looking back that in that rehearsal room, Bella danced on obliviously.

xoxox

Wednesday sessions with Mr. Shapiro were always after my lunch break. Often, I'd end up ahead of time in the room where I'd met him, eating a little, playing a little. It was better than spending time on finding an available rehearsal room in between lessons. I didn't think he knew about that habit of mine. On Wednesdays he'd always walked in after me, rushing in from his own lunch break, I assumed.

The room was empty as I'd expected to find it. I walked over to the piano and brushed my fingers along the keys. For me, there was something intimate about this motion, almost like shaking a person's hand when you met them. I left my lunch bag on the lid of the piano and took a seat. I didn't turn on the lights when I entered, and the room was wrapped in semi-darkness. The piano was placed close to a window, though, so there was light enough for me to see what I was doing.

I touched the keys again, now with more urgency, because all of a sudden, I was remembering. That tune I'd come up with over two months ago was slowly coming back to me. When I'd first heard it at the pub, it was merely a vague sound resonating momentarily in my head. Now each note was distinct, fitting the others perfectly, as they compiled themselves into a melody. The music lingered long enough for me to remember it well once the sound would fade. I knew it eventually would, and I was hoping to hold on to it because suddenly I knew. It was _her_ melody. She owned it. This was the tune I'd just seen her dance to.

It wasn't until the last note faded into silence that I realized there was someone in the room.

"I was not aware this was a part of your assignment," said Mr. Shapiro, leaning against the closed door. He held my gaze for a moment before he reached out to turn on the lights. "Do you enjoy sitting here in the dark?" he asked casually as he approached me. I could see it wasn't what he'd meant to ask.

"It's just… something I've come up with during the summer," I stammered. I could barely meet his eyes. I was still somewhat embarrassed for being caught in the act. My music was very personal to me. Very few people had heard things I'd composed myself.

"It's very good."

Mr. Shapiro wasn't one for compliments. I could come up with the most excellently executed piece, and he'd still find flaws in it. It bothered me, but I'd never argued with him because I'd understood his motives. My playing was good, but it was his job to make it better. Rarely would he pay me a compliment like the one he'd just done.

"Thank you, Sir," I whispered. I hoped I wasn't blushing. It would be the worst type of humiliation if I did. I glanced at him. His eyes were as bright as ever, leering at me with what seemed like understanding.

And just like that, he was my no-nonsense teacher again. "So, shall we begin?"

He was one for randomness. I'd learned not to be surprised.

He had assigned me a composition by Chopin for today. Chopin had always been one of my favorite composers, and I'd always wanted to attempt that piece. It was more intricate than I was used to, and I liked the way the sounds flowed flawlessly, mixing into one another with impossible speed. But my heart wasn't at it today. I played what I'd been asked to, but just out of duty. It didn't feel right. That other melody was still stuck in my head, so was the image that accompanied it, _her_ image, the one I was so determined to wipe off my mind only that morning.

"Mr. Cullen, stop playing, please."

Mr. Shapiro had never yelled or scolded or grimaced. His expression remained blank even when he was mad or upset. It was worse than any other reaction, under the circumstances. I felt like dropping my gaze because I knew he was right. My playing sucked. But there was very little I could do about it.

"It's not a very good day, Sir, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, Mr. Cullen. Make it better."

"I'm not sure I can, Sir."

"You have to rise above personal issues in order to produce better music."

"I thought the whole point of music was to make it personal."

"Is it Chopin you have issues with?"

"No, Sir."

"Then there shouldn't be a problem."

I didn't think he'd appreciate me laughing in his face. He was so damn practical. His tone meant finality, as if the subject was resolved. I was almost scared to contradict him. "I wish it was that simple."

"Why is it not?"

I faltered, but only for a moment. "There's this girl." I couldn't believe I was telling him this. "She's a dancer. I sort of came up with that other tune with her in mind."

He shook his head. "Tale as old as time, Mr. Cullen. Boy meets girl, boy likes girl, boy writes a song for girl. How is that a problem?"

I laughed once without humor. "It's a problem when the girl likes someone else."

He said nothing for a moment, and I was sure he was going to go back into practical mode in any moment. "When I was twenty five, I got my first job at the theatre, have I ever told you that?"

Like I said: random. "Uh, no Sir, you haven't."

"I moved from Boston to Manhattan to try my luck in show business. Everyone in my family believed it was nothing but a phase. My uncle, who was a jeweler, had expected me to get into the family business. All I'd wanted was to make music."

I nodded. I knew that feeling well. I knew nothing about his uncle, but he sounded remarkably like my grandfather.

"Well, that first job was where I met Stella. She was a chorus girl. I can't remember the production's name right now. But I _can_ remember the first time I laid my eyes on her. 'Stella' means star, and this was just what she was. A star fell down from heaven."

I felt my lips curl in a smile. He sounded so cliché.

"Stella and I spent a lot of time together backstage. She was a feisty girl, very animated. She couldn't stay in one place more than a few minutes. I'd never met a woman like her. Women weren't supposed to be so lively back then, you know. And those who were, well, you can guess the kind of reputation that stuck to them," he smirked. "I was a different person when I was next to her. She brought out traits that were hidden in me. We had the best time together. I was head over heels in love with her, but so was any other man in the production. She and I were particularly close, which was unusual for a man and a woman who weren't married or courting. And I didn't want to harm her reputation, but I enjoyed her company too much and she seemed to enjoy mine."

I wasn't sure where he was going with his tale, but I found myself intrigued, and anxious for him to go on. I could picture this girl, a blonde beauty, with a mane of golden hair, cherry red lips and constant glimmer in her eyes. Anyone would be smitten with her.

"One day, I decided to just tell her how I felt. I was shy by nature, and it was a difficult decision, but not doing anything would have been worse. I felt the love for her consuming me from the inside," he said, smiling sadly. It was as if he was describing my own situation. "We meant to meet for dinner. I had the entire day to prepare myself, to rehearse the things I meant to say. But that morning, the leading actress became ill, and Stella had to cover for her. It happened just like in the movies. The audience loved her. She'd never showed up for that dinner, and I'd lost my nerve." His smile was sad and bitter. "Stella did the lead until the leading actress recovered. She'd hardly had time to talk to anyone in those weeks, and we spent less and less time together. I'd hardly ever seen her, except for momentary glimpses in the hallways, a hasty word here and there. Then she got her own leading role in a different production. The rumor had it that the producer promised her more than just a career boost, if you get my drift."

There was pain in his eyes, as if he was reliving it. He had a gift for storytelling. I felt as if I were right there with him.

"I worked at the same theatre until it was closed down. I missed her every day. I kept reading about her, and I was proud of her success. I told myself that the most important thing was that she was happy. About eight years later, I saw her again. And it was as if we'd never parted. We picked up right from where we left off."

His unfocused gaze met mine, now more alert to the present. He had a different smile now, nostalgic, and more content. "We'll be celebrating our thirty fifth anniversary in February."

By his expression I realized I was supposed to figure something out by now, but I sat there at loss. "I'm… not sure I see your point, Sir."

"My point is that maybe you shouldn't aspire for anything greater than friendship if this is the best you can get at the moment. The young lady might change her mind about you. _You_ might change your mind about her. But don't give up because you think you cannot have her."

His words accompanied me throughout the day, and while they somewhat faded on Thursday, they came back to haunt me on Friday. She was already in class when I rushed in, as breathless as I'd always been when Mr. Shapiro had dismissed me in a five minutes delay. She looked up at me and her eyes lit up. The last drop of determination was squeezed out of me. There was no way I was going to carry on with my plan.

"We thought you weren't coming," she said, speaking on Anya's behalf as well, but it was easy to separate the 'I' from the 'we'. Relief was written all across her delicate features. Her eyes looked almost hazel in the fluorescence.

"No, I'm here," I replied quietly, looking away from her. It was easier that way. It was amazing how different I felt in a span of just a few days. Only on Wednesday, forgetting about her had been a settled fact, and now I wasn't sure it was the smartest thing to do anymore.

"Better reading this week?" she asked, oblivious to my distress.

I was determined not to let her sweetness get to me, but I couldn't help sniggering at her remark. We'd been assigned sections from _The Scarlet Letter_. She seemed to know I'd like it better than any of the previous books. Sometimes it felt as if she'd known me so well, _too_ well, considering the short time of our acquaintance. "Definitely better. The movie is God awful though."

"I didn't get a chance to watch it."

"I to watch this movie once," Anya said, and nodded to me. "It no good."

"I agree. It's true that it's said to be 'loosely inspired' by the novel, but let's be honest, their interpretation sucks."

Bella laughed. I tried to shut out the soft, sweet, musical sound, without much success. "I'm kind of glad I didn't waste my time then."

"Why didn't you watch it?" In our course we discussed books and their film adaptations, and we were assigned both as homework. Usually the movies weren't mandatory watching, but I found it easier to follow the class later if I'd done both. From the little I'd known so far, Bella had never missed a screening.

"Various reasons, really. Too much reading for Music History, a choreography assignment I literally finished just two hours ago, lack of available DVD player…"

"You can come to my place the next time," I blurted out without thinking. I realized what I said only when I saw the two of them exchange a glance. Bella's cheeks reddened slightly as she looked up at me uncertainly. "I… it's just that no one fights over the DVD player there. It's just me," I stammered, but the damage had already been done. Damn it. "Actually I'm really looking forward for next week," I added, hoping to just keep the conversation going.

"You're a fan of _The Wizard of Oz_?" she asked as her blush slowly faded. Pinkish tint remained on her cheeks. For a second, I forgot she had asked me anything.

"Green witches, flying houses and winged monkeys? What's not to like?"

"I hate the monkeys," she said, frowning. I tried to ignore how ridiculously cute she looked with her nose wrinkled the way it was. "They scared the hell out of me when I was little."

"I never to read that," said Anya.

"_Never_?" Bella echoed incredulously. "Oh, no, we have to correct that! It's one of my favorites."

"Yeah, and the film is great," I said. She gaped at me. I laughed nervously, feeling self-conscious beneath her gaze. "What?"

"You're not arguing with me," she said, sort of amazed, but with a hint of mischief sneaking into her tone.

"Why would I? It's one of my favorites too," I smiled at her. She returned it when Mr. Bronson called the class to order. There was this little grin that lingered on her lips when the class started. I let myself stare at her a bit longer before I brought my attention back to the lesson. Taking notes had always been the safest option.

Mr. Bronson began his lecture, and I let my mind wander. I was still beating myself up for my slip. I knew how it sounded, but I hoped I managed to correct that first impression. I tried to decipher that look that had passed between Bella and Anya, but found myself unable to. It was like this secret code I wasn't supposed to comprehend, like a girly conspiracy I'd had no part in. I _could_ ask them to watch _The Wizard of Oz_ with me, I told myself. We wouldn't even have to rent it; I was pretty sure Emmett and Rosalie had owned a copy. I wouldn't have to feel guilty about spending time with her because we wouldn't be alone. It wouldn't even have to be considered a date.

But I knew it was a bad idea as soon as it had invaded my mind. There was no way I'd be able to behave myself if she showed up at my apartment, with other people around or not. Sitting next to her in class was torture enough, with this constant temptation to touch her, no matter for how brief a moment. There were days when the tension had become beyond unbearable. I figured it would be worse if we would have been sitting in the darkness in my apartment. I should stick to simpler tasks. I should ask her to go out with me again.

But that was probably an even a worse idea than the first one. And suddenly I realized how hopeless the entire situation had been. I couldn't do this. I couldn't be just friends with this girl.

As if she was somehow sensing my distress, she turned and glanced at me. Our eyes met; I didn't even care if she caught me looking at her. Her lips curled in a small, uncertain smile. The pink in her cheeks deepened. I smiled weakly back and forced my eyes away from her.

Assertiveness, that's it, I told myself over and over, daring myself not to look back at her. I grabbed a pen and went back to taking notes, even though no one had said anything that was worth summarizing. If I kept my hands busy, I figured, my mind would wander away from her too.

About a forever later, we were dismissed. I released the breath I didn't even know I was holding, and slowly shifted in my seat.

"Well, I to go," Anya said. "See you next week, Edward."

I could have sworn she winked at me, almost as if she knew. I murmured 'see you' in reply and busied myself with stuffing my things in my bag. Bella lingered behind, I noticed, even though she had a class. It was now or never. If I wanted to ask her anything, it had to be now. Mr. Shapiro's words echoed loud and clear in my head. _Don't give up because you think you cannot have her_. And just like that, I knew I wouldn't.

"I'll see you next week?" she asked, and I realized to my horror she was by the door and nearly gone.

I sprang out of my chair. It made that awful screeching sound as the metal hit the linoleum of the floor. A few heads turned in my direction. I could feel my cheeks flare. Great. "Actually, Bella…?"

She stopped by the door. I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to calm down. "Yes?"

I could tell she knew what I wanted to say, maybe she'd known it ever since that stupid slip of mine about the movie at my place. It wasn't very encouraging. "I know you have a class now, but we can go to _Maddie's_ for coffee afterwards if you want? I'll meet you out front?" I added the second question quickly, before I'd lose my nerve.

There was no hesitation in her eyes, just surprise. Her lips curled in a small, heart-melting smile. "Sure. Around four?"

Not trusting myself to say anything intelligible, I simply nodded.

Yeah, I thought as I watched her walk away. I could definitely handle this 'just friends' business.

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A/N: _**The Meadow**_** from the **_**New Moon**_** soundtrack is one of the most perfect pieces of score I've ever heard. I wrote this chapter without any particular melody in mind for Edward's tune, or rather Bella's. My only purpose was to echo the lullaby that is so central to the books. When I listened to **_**The Meadow**_** for the first time, it just clicked. This is exactly what Edward would be playing, what Bella would dance to. I hope it echoes in that scene up there.**

**If you got this far, thank you for reading. Reviews make me ridiculously happy =)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine – Bella**

"So how long have you been together?"

It was as if he'd been saving the question since the Jacob issued had come up the week before. Like that day, we sat in the far end of the café, side by side again, by the same window. We didn't speak much on the way there, or until our coffee arrived. But now I felt almost trapped between him and the wall I was leaning against. His eyes were boring into mine, darker than I'd ever seen them, as he awaited my reply.

"Umm, over two years, I guess. It started the summer your brother got married." I studied his face over the rim of my mug. He watched me attentively as I sipped my coffee. "We've been together on and off ever since."

He seemed puzzled. "On and off?"

I shrugged. "I live in Phoenix. He lives in La Push. The only time we actually get to spend together is during the summer."

"Sounds tough."

"We manage." I didn't know why it was important for me to state that. A proof to him? To myself? "My mom thinks long distant relationships are the most evil things out there," I laughed without humor.

"So, you're trying to prove her wrong?"

I considered that. "No, I think I'm trying to prove myself I'm different than her by being able to keep it. I don't know if it's working yet," I added without thinking. It took me a moment to even realize I'd said it out loud. I didn't quite realize I was thinking that until I heard myself utter the words. His eyes stayed on mine, searching, although I wasn't sure what, exactly. I laughed nervously, feeling uncomfortable beneath his probing gaze. "My roommate thinks I'm crazy. She's saying it's unhealthy to tie yourself down to someone who lives so far away. She's trying to set me up with all these guys, including her brother."

"She sounds like someone I know," he laughed once, darkly. "You don't like any of those guys?"

"No," I replied, pouting. It made him laugh. "I love Jacob."

I knew it was impossible he would be convinced by that, because I could hardly convince myself.

xoxox

We didn't spend as much time at the café as the last time. I was exhausted, having spent my entire morning putting together a routine I'd been working on for my modern dance class, and he seemed to notice it. My coffee mug didn't do a very good job hiding my constant yawning.

I hadn't expected him to ask me out for coffee again. Deep down I sort of hoped he would because it'd been fun the first time around, but I wasn't sure he'd want to, not after the way that one other time had ended. I was afraid that the Jacob thing would put a barrier between us, but it didn't. It was as easy as it had always been with him. Never once did he make me feel awkward or uncomfortable. He had offered me friendship and although I half expected him to go back on his offer, he didn't show any signs of doing that.

"So, any plans for the weekend?" he asked me as he fell into step beside me when we stepped out into the bustling street.

"Nothing exciting. Just rest, and work on my routine some more. I guess I'll have to educate Anya about _The Wizard of Oz_," I added, laughing as I remembered our earlier conversation. "What are you going to do?"

"I've got so many assignments to complete it will be a miracle if I survive this weekend," he joked. We crossed the street, and there it was, my stop, appearing before us too fast, as always. He stopped on the sidewalk. "Bella…?"

"Yes?"

"Actually, forget it."

"What?" I was surprised by my own persistence, or maybe it was curiosity because suddenly he looked flustered.

"You'll think it's weird," he murmured, looking everywhere but at me.

"No, I won't. What is it?"

"I don't have many friends in school and I… well, I like spending time with you. I don't want to wait until Friday to see you." I thought he was blushing, but it was getting too dark out to be sure. He ran a hand through his hair. "What I'm trying to say is that I was wondering if it would be okay we'd do this during the week too, and not just on Fridays."

I had to remind myself it was nothing but friendship; judging from by my racing heart, you could almost think there was more to it than that. His eyes were intent on mine, almost imploring, and for a moment I wondered what my reply should be. If I was supposed to find his stammered request weird like he obviously thought I would, I didn't. It wasn't weirder than my reaction, because I wanted to see him more often, too.

"Look, I realize how it sounds like," he said then, misinterpreting my silence for hesitation. "I promise it's nothing like that. I would never try and come in the way between you and Jacob."

It was the first time his name even came up, and coming from Edward, it sounded strange, almost foreign. Up until then, I had assumed he'd known the 'someone else' had been Jacob, but since he'd never mentioned an actual name, I wasn't sure. His last statement was a confirmation of sorts.

"I know that," I said quietly, wondering why his promise didn't reassure me as it clearly should have. "And no, I don't think it's weird. I like spending time with you, too."

A hint of a smile crossed his still anxious expression, as if he was still dithering. "I'll call you tomorrow then? I don't know your schedule, but we can work something out…"

"Sure," I smiled, hoping to encourage him. He looked downright terrified, not that I knew why he would be. I reached for my backpack to get a piece of paper. "Here, I'll write it down for you – "

"I've got the number up there. I used to live there too, remember?" he asked, flashing a crooked grin at me. I returned it hesitantly. I did sort of forget that bit. "Well, I'll talk to you tomorrow then," he said, sounding more resolved now. "Get some rest."

For one crazy moment, I thought he was going to kiss me goodbye.

Get a grip, I scolded myself, because suddenly I couldn't think of anything else. "Yeah, I should get some rest," I murmured, and quickly turned away from him before I said – or worse than that, _did_ – something I regretted.

xoxox

I walked into my room in a daze, hoping to sit down and process everything that had just happened, to organize my thoughts and put my mind and my heart back on the right track, but fate had other plans for me. Alice all but pounced at me as soon as I walked through the door. "Good, you're back. Get your things."

"What? Why?"

"We'll talk later, you have to come with me _now_!" she said urgently, pushing me in the direction I'd just come from.

"Wait, to go where?"

"To get some coffee."

"But Alice, I just had – "

It was useless. In the next second she reached for the doorknob and all but dragged me out of the room behind her. Why did I try to resist her in the first place was beyond me.

xoxox

"Where are we going?"

"Starbucks, around the corner."

"And what's so urgent about that?"

"You'll see when we get there, now come on!"

We had to squeeze our way in. The fact it was Friday only made rush hour seem worse. The place was packed. I stifled a yawn, not that there was a need to. Alice was hardly even aware of my existence. As we waited in line, I realized she was glancing frantically all around us, as if she was looking for someone. "Alice, you're acting weird. Weirder than normally, I mean. What's going on?"

But before I got a reply, her features shifted. Her stare turned from anxious into something much softer… almost dreamy. "There," was all she said, her eyes fixed forward.

I looked in the direction she'd just pointed at with her chin. A guy behind the counter was taking orders from a pair of tourists ahead of us. He was tall and lean, with a mass of dirty blonde hair that wasn't long enough to be put into a ponytail as he'd attempted to do. He had sharp features; a prominent profile, a strong jaw, chiseled cheekbones. He wore a tee shirt with a faded picture of a rock band I'd never heard of before. It was slightly stained with coffee in various places, a striking contrast with his face. Overall he was good looking, I guess. Like a very unkempt Prince Charming.

I turned my attention back to Alice, who still had that funny look on her face. I thought I'd figured it all out by now. "Nice, Alice, but really not my thing."

"Not for you, dummy, for _me_!" she hissed. I hardly even had a chance to process what she was saying, because we were next in line. I watched her dumbfounded as she flashed the guy behind the counter a brilliant smile. "Hi, Jasper."

"Alice," he greeted her. His smile was strained, professional. "The usual?"

"Yes please, and something for my friend," she said, turning to me.

I was too busy scrutinizing his face that I didn't notice they were both looking at me now, and awaiting my reply. "Umm, just water for me, thanks," I stammered, flushing.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." She paid him, and we moved along the counter. "I just had coffee. That's what I've been trying to tell you when you pushed me through the door." I stole another glance at him from over her shoulder, and then turned my inquiring gaze back at her. "So are you going to tell me or will I have to force it out of you?"

"Let's find a seat first," she commanded and grabbed our drinks. I did my best to follow her as she maneuvered her way through the crowd to the back. Somehow she managed to find us a seat without spilling her coffee in the process of getting there. I sat across from her, and watched her as she put sugar in her coffee and took one sip. It was as if she forgot she was supposed to tell me anything.

"Alice?" I asked. She looked at me from above her mug, slightly dazed. I couldn't decide if she was stalling on purpose or not. I rolled my eyes at her, just the same. "Your story?"

"I noticed him about two weeks ago. He had that arrogant, indifferent look that normally wouldn't make me glance twice in someone's direction, but in his case, it made me curious. I've come here ever since, and I didn't think he noticed until last week. I started getting double lattes instead of the regular ones I'd ordered, so I knew it had to mean _something_, but this morning was the first time he actually said hi to me. He actually said my name!"

She said it all in one breath, and her voice came out as a squeal in the last sentence. Her eyes glimmered, and it took me a second to realize she was completely smitten by this guy.

"His name is Jasper Whitlock, and he has just turned twenty two a couple of weeks ago. He's a student in NYU, a complete computer geek. I admit his appearance is sloppy and his clothes are horrific, but it's nothing a slight makeover won't be able to solve. Besides, I'd like to believe he only dresses that way just for work because no one in his right mind will go out in public looking like that! So what do you think?"

"I…" I started, slightly dizzy with her fast speech. I laughed softly. "I think you're crazy, but I know that hardly changes anything." I let my fingers play with the lead of my water bottle. "How do you know so much about him already? I thought you hardly spoke to him."

"I have my ways," she replied deviously. I didn't doubt that.

"So, are you going to do something about this?"

"Not yet. I'll give him a few days to realize he's crazy about me."

Her grin was confident. I almost envied her. I wished I could be as flamboyant as she had. "The poor guy," I teased.

"I know, right?" she said, giggling. Then in the next second her smile withered, a shadow clouded her blissful air. She let out a sigh. "I wish everything was so simple."

"What's wrong?"

"It's my c – my brother. I'm worried about him."

Somehow I hoped all the talk about Jasper would divert her from her favorite topic. Although this time, she wasn't her usual cheerful self. She didn't have that naughty glint in her eye when she mentioned him. Something really bothered her. "What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know for sure, he never tells me anything." Funny. For a moment I thought how much like me he had sounded. I had this thing about privacy; I hardly told things to anyone, not even my mom. It was strange to think about her brother in positive terms after I'd come to dislike him, an inevitable result of her ongoing attempts to set me up with him. "But I think I have an idea."

"Oh?" I asked, although with very little interest.

"I think a girl has something to do with it. I _know_ a girl has something to do with it. What I haven't figured out yet is whether he's not making a move on her because he's too shy to, or because… because she's with someone else." She sipped her coffee, and then glanced at me thoughtfully. "You have a boyfriend."

It wasn't a question. I nodded wordlessly, unsure where she was going with it.

"If you knew someone had a thing for you while you were with someone else, what would you have done?"

Her question took me off-guard. I couldn't help thinking of Edward, stumbling over his own words earlier on the sidewalk, but I forced the image away as soon as it invaded my mind. I wasn't ready to think back of it yet. Besides, it wasn't like that. "I… don't know. Depends on the circumstances, I guess."

"What do you mean?"

"Whether I feel something back for this guy or not."

"For argument's sake, you do."

"For argument's sake, then, I'll try to do what's fair for all sides. I guess I'll tell my boyfriend about this other guy because I wouldn't want to lead him on. Either way, someone's going to get hurt, whether it's Jacob or E – " My speech caught up with my thought process, and I stopped myself on time, but my pulse was quickening just the same. For a moment I could barely understand my own slip. What the hell had just happened?

Luckily, Alice remained too absorbed in her distress to be bothered by mine. "I just wish my brother wouldn't be the one getting hurt on this one. He'd already been burnt once," she said, and pinned me with a look I couldn't decipher.

"Maybe it'll work out."

"I hope so." When she smiled next, it was strained, but not without humor. "All of this wouldn't have happened if you agreed to meet him," she mock-accused me.

I rolled my eyes. Here we go again. "I know it's easy for you to forget, Alice, but I do actually have a boyfriend, remember?"

But I couldn't possibly be seriously mad at her when she smiled at me like that. With her it was more than possible that she actually had forgotten. "How is Jacob, really?"

"I… don't know," I said slowly, suddenly realizing I hadn't spoken to him since our first week here. An incredible wave of guilt swept over me. "I haven't spoken to him in a while."

She seemed amazed. "It doesn't bother you?"

The truth was that it should have bothered me, but it didn't, not really. I told myself I was too busy to miss him, but that was a rotten lie. No matter how busy I'd been, I made sure to call my mom every other day, once in two days for the most.

Alice touched my hand and I jumped, startled. I didn't realize I hadn't said anything. "I say that when someone isn't anxious to speak with her boyfriend after weeks she hasn't seen him, something is wrong," she said gently. I forced my eyes away from her because I knew she was right, but I couldn't handle an affirmation just now. "Look," she said, squeezing my hand. "I'm in no position to judge you or anything. And I know I've been bugging you about my brother, but let's talk seriously for a moment. You meant to break up with this guy once."

Being reminded about my own calamity by someone else hurt more than I had thought possible. "Your point?"

"My point is that maybe you're not being completely honest with yourself about how you truly feel about Jacob."

"I love him," I said, barely able to meet her eyes. Like with Edward earlier today, it sounded like a downright lie, an empty statement that had some meaning, once.

"If that's true, how come you can't find a few minutes in a day to think about him? Because it doesn't seem like you do."

I said nothing. Every word stung, but I didn't care. I felt I'd deserved it.

"Why don't you… try to write it down?"

"Write it down?" I echoed skeptically.

"Yes. Write him a letter, start a journal, whatever. Try to be honest with yourself."

I stared at her incredulously. She wasn't kidding. "How did it turn out to be a conversation about _me_?"

"I'm only trying to help," she said, taking a last sip of her coffee. "At least say you'll think about it."

"Fine. I'll think about it." I hoped she would forget it as soon as we were on the street again.

xoxox

But surprisingly enough, it was me who couldn't forget what she had said. I knew I wasn't honest with myself, or with him. I should have ended it when I had a chance, but instead I was leading him on when in fact who knew if I'd ever loved him at all.

I didn't really believe that.I did love Jacob. It wasn't that kind of love you'd read about it novels or see in films. I'd never felt like I was floating on air next to him, there were no butterflies or humming birds, but I was sure it was still love. He made me laugh. I'd known him well enough to know his flaws, and he'd known me well enough to know mine. I didn't have to pretend with him. Comfort seemed more essential, more down-to-earth than elation. Maybe all those larger-than-life sensations were just a part of a larger scheme, initially planted in novels and films to make you believe in an illusion. Nothing but some childish fancy.

But again, I was fooling myself. I remembered one time in particular in which my skin was prickling, when Edward's fingers accidentally brushed mine a week ago. The way he uttered my name, like a prayer or a caress, was enough to make my head spin. His nearness alone made my entire body tense with anticipation for a touch I knew was never coming. The fact it was now Sunday evening and he still hadn't called as he'd promised, the fact I'd been counting the minutes until he would, should be a final confirmation, as if the rest wasn't enough.

No. I was thinking nonsense, just because Alice had put the idea in my head. I was lonely, vulnerable, confused. I was just not thinking straight.

But what if, like everything else, those too were just empty excuses?

I sat up in bed and looked around me. I was alone. Alice went out hours ago with some of our friends, and I didn't feel like tagging along. I was secretly still waiting for the phone to ring, but it was so dark a secret; I hardly even told it to myself. I scanned our desk when my eyes fell on what I'd been looking for. I snatched the writing pad and a pen before I could think better of it, and sprawled back on my bed.

_Dear Jacob,_

_A friend advised me to write to you so I could come to terms with the way I feel about you – about us. You know I'm not one for face-to-face confrontations. I'm kind of like my dad in that. It's sort of hypocritical to do it this way too, I guess, as it's not really a confrontation to begin with. You can't respond or defend yourself, and I guess that's what makes the whole thing easier. You know I've never been the bravest. _

_You know as well as I do that it's not the same anymore. It's kind of overdramatic considering the time we've actually been together. I know how you feel about me, Jake, and I'm flattered. I truly am. But if I'm honest with myself, and with you, I'm not sure I can return those feelings. I used to tell myself that I can, and will, but in the last few months I've come to realize it's your friendship I'm after, and it isn't fair to lead you on like that. You deserve better._

_You might be surprised while reading this, but think about it, Jake. In a way, you've known about it all along, or sensed it. I think we both tried to shut it out because we care about each another. I do care about you, Jacob, just not the way you wish me to. _

_You sit there wondering why I'm doing this now, if there's someone else. I'm asking myself the same thing too, because the truth is that there is and there isn't. I guess what I'm trying to say is that there might be. It's all happening too fast, and I'm just – _

A rap came on the door. I looked up from the page; I was amazed to see it was nearly full. "Bella, you there?" I recognized Laurel's voice. "There's a phone call for you!"

My heart all but flew up my throat. I hurried outside. "Who is it?" I asked Laurel as I followed her out of the room.

"Dunno. Some guy."

She waved and went the other way. I stood still for a moment, struggling to regain my composure, and then slowly walked to the phone. I looked at the receiver that was off the hook, waiting for me to pick it up. I allowed myself a small, triumphant smile. I knew he'd call eventually.

"Hello?"

"Hi, stranger."

My hand clutched the receiver tighter when I recognized the voice, not the one I'd expected. Reality landed on me hard and fast. I wasn't ready for disappointment when it hit me full force. "Jacob," I whispered, more as self verification than anything else.

"Surprise!"

"How did you…" I forced myself to take a deep breath. I closed my eyes. The moisture around my eyes was unmistakable. I ignored it. I couldn't allow myself to fall apart just now. "How did you get this number?"

"Your mom gave it to me," he said smugly. I knew he was expecting me to be impressed, to say something, but my throat felt so tight I could hardly breathe. "I know you're probably busy, but I wanted to hear your voice and make sure you're okay." He paused. "_Are_ you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm just… glad to hear you," I said through tears. I struggled to keep my voice from trembling, but tears were falling uncontrollably now. I knew he could probably hear my constant sniffing, but suddenly I didn't care. The extent of my apathy scared me.

"How's school? I bet you're having a great time, aren't you?"

"Yeah, it's great," I croaked, holding back a sob. "Listen, Jake, I'm sorry, I have to – "

"Yeah, I know, you have to go," he said. His voice was so soft, so understanding; he didn't deserve this. I didn't deserve his sympathy. "I just, you know, wanted to know how you were and say hi." He paused again. "I love you."

I closed my eyes as the words stabbed me. "Me too."

I didn't remember hanging up, or how I got to my room. The letter was still on my bed, incomplete. I picked it up and stared at it emptily for a moment. I shouldn't feel this way. I shouldn't expect a call from someone, and be disappointed because I got a call from somebody else, someone who went through hell to get my number here. I shouldn't think about someone else when I had a boyfriend who was worried about me. I shouldn't be so ungrateful. I should try and be worthy of Jacob because he loved me.

A tear slid down my cheek and landed on the page, staining a few words, washing the ink altogether in places. But even without it ruining the letter, I already knew it was one I wasn't going to send.

As I cried myself to sleep that night, I remembered Edward still hadn't called.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: we topped 100 reviews, yay! Thanks so much, everyone, please keep the feedback coming! Adding on to the disclaimer, I don't own **_**Breakfast at Tiffany's**_**, I'm just a big fan. On a side note, I'm basing the Cullens' pug on my own five-year-old monster. If you guys don't know what pugs look like, google them, they're comedy. Happy reading x**

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Chapter Ten – Edward

"Damn it," I hissed and slammed the cordless phone back into its cradle. The line was busy again. Like I'd predicted, it had been a hectic weekend. I spent most of Saturday reading, and by the time I remembered I hadn't called Bella yet, it was too late to do so. Then, on Sunday, whenever I tried, the line was busy.

I heaved a sigh and looked around. The apartment felt like my prison just now. I hadn't left it since Saturday morning, when I went to get some groceries before I confined myself in the apartment. I intended to finish my assignments before Sunday night and have a chance to ask Bella for dinner, but that wasn't happening; not just because I was unable to reach her, but because I'd wasted too much time in trying. It was as if someone up there was teasing me again for even thinking of pushing my limits with her.

Every failing attempt brought on new frenzy of concern. She'd expect my call. It wasn't just me bragging; I knew she would. She was one of those people you couldn't break the promise you'd made to them. I hadn't actually promised I'd call, but I'd said I would, and for me that was the same. I wasn't keeping my word, and this was bad timing to say the very least. If it was her trust I was hoping to gain, I wasn't doing a very good job.

I had just picked up the phone for another try when Alice burst into the apartment. "Who are you calling?"

Speaking of bad timing, I thought bitterly, and slowly placed the phone back. "Is the phone in your common room broken?"

"I don't know. Why are you calling there?"

"I was, umm, looking for you."

"Silly, call me on my cell," she said, ruffling my hair. "What's the matter?"

"Everything's fine, Alice, stop asking that," I grumbled.

When I next looked at her, she was eyeing me strangely, as if I'd said something wrong. "Okay…" she said slowly, "but you said you called me, so something must have happened or you wouldn't have forgotten I had a cell you could reach me on."

I felt like kicking myself. "I just wanted to ask how you've been," I said weakly. She clearly didn't buy that. No one in his right mind would. "What are you doing here, anyway?" I hoped a change of topics would sidetrack her.

"I came to ask if you wanted to come down for some coffee," she said, and there was strange urgency in her stare.

I looked her over, from her high heeled boots to her purple vintage coat, the one she only wore on special occasions. "So why are you dressed as if you're going out to see a play?"

I couldn't believe my eyes. She actually _blushed_. I had to do a double take. "Just coffee, that's all," she mumbled, barely meeting my eyes.

"Look who is keeping secrets now," I murmured, half to myself, half to her, unable to hide my wide grin. It felt nice to be on the other end of the game, for a change. "Who is he?"

"No one you know. So are you coming?"

"Can't, sorry. I've got a lot to do before tomorrow."

"Ah, come on, it can wait for later!" she pouted.

"No, it really can't. I spent too much time today already – "

"Trying to call me on the common room phone?" she asked, her lips curling devilishly.

"Get out of here," I laughed.

"I'm going, I'm going. I'd hate to keep him waiting," she said, batting her eyelashes dramatically.

"Alice," I stopped her on the doorway. She turned to give me an inquiring look. I hesitated. I didn't feel like being laughed at again. "Can you… leave me the number in the residence halls, just in case?"

She just stood there for a moment and watched me, as if trying to read something in my expression. I struggled to meet her gaze without flinching. But then, as if she didn't find what she'd been looking for, she walked over to the phone and wrote something down. On her way out, she ruffled my hair again, and left wordlessly.

The moment she was out of the door, I launched at the notepad by the phone, an action that was followed by a string of all the nasty curses I'd known (which, unfortunately, wasn't much). For the past two days, I'd been dialing the frigging wrong number! I remembered the number all right, but I misplaced two digits, which was enough to mess up the entire thing. I grabbed the phone and dialed slowly, making sure each digit was in place.

I didn't even have a chance to steady my shaky breath when someone on the other end picked up. "Hello?"

"Umm, hi. I'm looking for Isab – I mean, Bella Swan, is she there?"

"I'll check if she's in her room."

I closed my eyes and pressed the phone to my ear. Excuses and apologies were lining up as I waited for her to get to the phone. I could only hope she wouldn't be too upset with me, although I knew she had every right to. I knew whatever I'd say would sound lame, but I had to try. I didn't get this far just to be thrown back to the starting point again.

"Hello?"

I blinked. "Bella?" I heard my voice croaking. Ugh, you idiot.

"No, sorry, she's not in her room or next door. Do you want to leave a message?"

"No. Thanks, I'll… try later." I didn't wait for the faceless voice to say goodbye. The phone was heavier than steel when I slowly placed it in its cradle. I stared emptily at the window in front of me. The sky was a gorgeous mixture of oranges and purples and pinks, blending into one another. Normally, I'd stop to appreciate the live palette in front of me, more breathtaking than any work of art. Today, I couldn't care less. I was too baffled to even be disappointed. I knew I wouldn't try to call again later. It was already too late, in more ways than one.

xoxox

For the first time in my history in Juilliard, I didn't show up for two classes in a row on Monday morning. I wasn't thrilled to ditch, but I told myself it was my punishment for acting so stupid. I should have let her write the phone number for me when she had suggested it instead of acting so nonchalant about it. Instead I'd created this unnecessary conflict I now had to solve. I had no idea what her schedule was, so I was putting my bets on the only place I knew for sure she had frequented – where I'd seen her dance the previous Wednesday.

I knew I wouldn't be able to just walk up and down the hallway; it was too quiet and deserted and I wouldn't be able to mingle and do it all unnoticed, so instead, I spent a while searching the hallways where most of the dance lessons had taken place before I went up there. I moved slowly down the hall, hoping I wouldn't bump into that vicious girl again. I stopped by every door to take a look inside, but all the rooms looked empty.

And then, when I reached the last door down the hall, just when I was about to give up hope, I saw her.

She was wearing black today, a one-piece leotard that was thankfully less distracting than that other ones. She didn't have her ballet slippers on, but a different pair of shoes I'd seen Alice wear for her jazz lessons at home. Her hair was tied back hastily. A few locks managed to escape, and she kept pushing them back with slight irritation. She stood away from the door, practicing some moves in front of the full-length mirrors. Her orange backpack next to the tape was the last giveaway.

Mustering all the courage I had, I raised my hand to the door and knocked. She turned at once, and her lips parted as if with a gasp. But in the next second her expression became blank. She just stood there for a moment, watching me carefully, as if she was undecided as for what she should do. Then she crossed the room and walked over to the tape. I took this as a sign I was allowed in.

The lights were off, but there was enough sun coming through the windows to provide light. This room was built differently than the one I'd seen her dance in the week before. There were narrow windows lines along the wall where it met the ceiling. I expected the room to be stuffy, like in a greenhouse, but it was surprisingly chilly. I spotted an open window at the farthest corner of the room. I sort of wondered how she got up there to get it opened. "Good morning," I said quietly, hesitantly.

She ignored me. She grabbed a small towel from near her bag and held it to her face. Then, a moment later, she wrapped it around her shoulders.

"I didn't mean to interrupt you, I'm s – "

"What are you doing here?" she cut me off, her voice sharper than I'd ever thought possible. I'd never thought her to be assertive. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly when they met mine and I winced. She was clearly hurt, like I knew she would be.

"I've been looking for you all morning."

"Well, you found me. You can go on with your day now."

"Bella," I sighed and took a step forward. She instantly took a step back, her eyes still hard on mine. "I know what you're thinking, but I didn't do it on purpose. I've been trying to call you all weekend."

"Right," she said dryly.

"I have! But being the idiot that I was, it wasn't until last night that I realized I was dialing the wrong number." I was still bitter about that. I stepped towards again. She didn't step back this time. "I would never do that on purpose. Why would I when it was my idea in the first place?"

She said nothing. I was standing closer now, trying to hold myself back from tucking those straying locks behind her ears. There was slight swelling beneath her eyes, as if she hadn't slept well, as if she hadn't slept at all. "I thought you were going to get some rest this weekend."

"It wasn't a very good weekend," she said, more gently now, lowering her gaze to the floor.

"Because of me?" I couldn't stop the words from slipping.

"Among other things," she replied, but she didn't sound as mad now. I couldn't help but wonder what happened that made her look that way. It was half of the image I'd pictured the week before. Her eyes were dim, lifeless. It was almost as if she'd spent hours crying. I was so used to that constant glimmer in her eyes that this Bella looked like a completely different person.

"I can only apologize for my share in this," I said sincerely. More than anything, I wished I could take her hand, do anything I could to comfort her, but I didn't want to scare her away. I should be grateful she didn't kick me out of this room when she got the chance. "I'll go now, I can see you're in the middle of things. I'll see you on Friday." As much as it hurt, I forced myself to turn away from her. I'd have to wait until Friday to try it all out again. I wouldn't force her into anything while she was still upset. It didn't seem fair.

I placed my hand on the doorknob when she spoke again. "Wait." I turned, nearly unable to believe she'd actually said the word. But upon meeting her eyes, the Bella I'd known seemed to be back in the room. She offered me a tiny, nearly invisible smile. "What are you doing after school?"

I felt my lips curl in response. Maybe it wasn't too late, after all.

xoxox

Our schedules were tough to coordinate, but we managed, somehow. In the next couple of weeks, our meetings became more frequent. Most of them were brief moments in the hallways in between classes. We had coffee a few times after school, and I finally brewed enough courage to ask her out to dinner on Monday, but she called me in the last minute to cancel. Her roommate was down with a flu, and she had to stay behind and tend her. I couldn't possibly resent her for that.

There seemed to be a virus going on at the residence halls, because Alice showed up at my apartment a few days earlier showing similar symptoms to what Bella had described. Alice had sworn to me that she wasn't sick, that she was too busy to get sick. Then the next day I got a text early in the morning: _am sick, damn it. don't come over. will be fine_. We'd kept in touch via texts ever since.

On Thursday, I hurried out as soon as my lesson was over. Bella and Anya were supposed to come over later to watch the movie for tomorrow's class. Now that Bella and I had spent so much time together, asking them over came naturally. We had such a great evening the first time that we decided to make a habit out of it until the end of the course. Thankfully, things weren't awkward with Bella. It was just like in class: light, harmless banter into which Anya had joined as well.

I was looking forward for tonight. _Breakfast at Tiffany's_ was one of my favorite films, and it made me kind of excited to share it with them. Last week the girls brought in pizza on their way here. Tonight I was going to cook for them, something I neither excelled in nor had done often, but I felt I owed it to them. I called my mom for some cooking advice. I told her I was spending the evening with friends, but didn't bother to mention the fact they were girls.

I was short in time. I still had to make sure the living room wasn't a complete mess, to take a shower, to change, and less than an hour to do it all. I ended up making pancakes, because it seemed like the easiest thing on my mom's list. Thankfully, it was simple enough. I hoped it didn't mean I was doing something wrong. I scanned the room as I waited for the pancakes to be ready. It looked representative enough. I lit a few candles and turned off the main lights. I hoped I didn't forget anything crucial, like a straying pair of boxers behind a cushion.

I took the last pancake out of the pan when the phone rang. It was right next to me on the counter, where I'd left it after talking to my mom earlier. "Hello?"

"Disden do you, all dice and cheerbul."

"Aww, Munchkin, you sound awful," I laughed softly. Alice was like me as far as illness went. We hadn't been sick often, but when we got it, we got it bad.

"I beel awbul," she said, sniffing. "This sucks."

I walked over to the bathroom to make sure there were no oil stains on the front of my shirt. I cradled the phone between my ear and my shoulder as I rolled my sleeves down. "You'll get better soon."

"Yeah, I hobe so." She sneezed and blew her nose a bit too loudly, probably to demonstrate her point. "Whad are you ub to?"

"Oh, nothing special," I replied, hovering over the sofa to make sure there really wasn't anything behind the cushions. I pushed my sleeves back up again. The door to the balcony was shut, and after standing by the stove for so long, the room was stifling hot. I didn't want to open it and get some fresh air in, fearing the girls would be cold when they got here. "Is your roommate taking care of you?"

"Do, I'b adone."

"The French opera singer left you while you're sick?" I asked in feigned astonishment.

"Do, I didn't bind. There are a bew ob us sick here. We sent the healby ones away."

The doorbell rang just when I rearranged the cushions on the side of the sofa. "Alice, I gotta go. I'll check on you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay, ib you bust," she said miserably.

"Try to get some sleep, Munchkin. Text me if you need anything."

I hurried to get the door, still holding the phone. Bella stood on the threshold, looking as hesitant as I hadn't seen her in weeks. Well, not hesitant. It was almost as if something had scared her. She looked as if any moment she would turn and run the way she'd come. I became instinctively worried. I looked her over quickly. She didn't seem hurt in any way. Did something happen to her?

"What's wrong?" I asked, looking over her shoulder, expecting to see Anya. She didn't say anything yet, but at that moment, it sank in. Her guarded expression made sense. She came alone. "Where's Anya?" I asked, hoping the quiver in my voice was undetectable. This was _not_ a big deal in any way, I told myself fiercely.

"She's not coming," she said, eyeing me carefully. "We have this virus in the residence halls. It was only a matter of time."

"Yeah, I know, I just talked to…" I let my voice trail off, raising the phone as if to prove my point. "Are you okay?" I asked, ushering her in. I watched her closely again as I took her coat. She didn't look sick.

"Surprisingly, I am," she replied, turning to look at me as I shut the door. Then she did a double take, and her forehead creased with concern. "You're not looking so well yourself."

"Why thank you, that's always nice to hear," I teased. The truth was that I was still hot and my head was throbbing. It was no more than a steady pulse at the back of my head and so I remained unaware of it until she'd made her comment. I rubbed my temples and watched her cringe. "It's nothing," I assured her. "Healthy as a horse."

I looked over my shoulder. The pile of pancakes was still on the counter, but it was mocking me now. I'd doubled my mom's list of ingredients to make sure we wouldn't run out, and now it turned out I'd done it for nothing. "Well, I hope you're hungry," I told Bella, nodding towards the counter. "Since Anya isn't coming, someone will have to finish all that."

Her eyes followed mine, widening in surprise. "You cooked?"

"Pancakes. No biggie," I shrugged. "I wanted to return the favor."

"You didn't have to do that. You're providing the TV and the movies and everything."

Her tone was slightly higher than normal. I only noticed it because I'd spent so much time with her recently. She looked kind of edgy. I hoped it wasn't because she was scared to be alone with me. I knew it was an arrogant thought. She was probably just worried about Anya. But it would be a dirty lie to say I wasn't terrified about being here alone with her. Wasn't it the very reason I'd avoided inviting them here in the first place?

My eyes wandered to the coffee table, where I'd left the DVD case. I walked over and took it, then handed it to her with a small, guarded smile. "Here. Take care of that, I'll get the food."

Her fingers brushed mine as she took it from me. My skin still tingled when I walked towards the kitchen. I swallowed, hard, trying to compose myself. There was this funny lump down my throat, and I hoped it didn't mean what I thought it meant. Just nerves. It was legitimate to be nervous, wasn't it?

I knew was overreacting. It didn't matter that Anya wasn't here. I told myself that over and over when I took two mugs out of the cupboard while waiting for the water to boil. So what if I'd never been completely alone with Bella before? It was a good opportunity to put my willpower under the test. "I'm making some tea, is that okay?"

"Sure."

The teabag flew out of my hand into the sink. I turned, startled. She flashed an apologetic grin at me. I didn't realize she'd followed me here. She kept her hair down this evening. It tumbled down her shoulders, almost copper in the dim light. I tried not to look at her for long, and it was pretty obvious she was doing the same. I sighed inwardly. It was going to be one hell of an evening, I could tell. I carried our tea to the living room; she followed with the rest of the stuff.

The TV was on and a trailer for an anonymous Japanese film was running. Bella kicked her boots off and settled into one end of the sofa, taking her plate with her. I was glad she was feeling so at home here. I sat on the other end of the sofa. I didn't dare to sit closer although every inch of me yearned to do it. I remembered the look she had on her face when she had arrived. There was a delicate balance between that look and the way she appeared to me now, and I didn't want to break that balance by making her uncomfortable.

"Hey, this is pretty good," she said, looking at me from above her plate. "Almost as good as mine," she added, smiling sneakily.

"I didn't know you cooked."

"With my parents, it's kind of necessary," she replied, rolling her eyes. "I only know some basic stuff, though. Italian, mostly."

"Whatever you know, it's probably more than I ever will."

"Well, you did well with these," she smiled, tearing another piece of pancake. "We can make a proper cook out of you, with a little practice."

She obviously missed the implication in her own words. I chose not to point it out to her, just enjoy it as long as it still lingered. _We_. It sounded promising.

"I'm really looking forward for tomorrow's class," she said when the opening credits began to roll. "It's one of my favorite movies."

It was as if she had read my mind. "Mine too."

I sipped my tea slowly, letting it burn its way down my throat. I stole glances at Bella when I was sure she wasn't looking. Her feet were tucked beneath her. She leaned her head against the back of the sofa. She looked completely captivated, despite the fact she had probably seen this movie more times than she could count. On screen, Audrey Hepburn had just cuddled against George Peppard after sneaking into his bedroom. _We're just friends, that's all_, she mumbled sleepily, drifting off against his chest. I smirked inwardly. I couldn't help but think how ridiculously appropriate this scene had been to our current situation.

I heard her murmur the lyrics of _Moon River_ when it came on, and I looked away from the TV to watch her gaze wistfully at the screen. It was nearly impossible to look away. I thought it was funny. The way Holly was lounging there, oblivious to her being watched, was just like how Bella had been when I watched her dance, a few weeks ago.

"What?"

I blinked. She was no longer watching the film, but me, and she had probably realized I was staring at her. In the dim light, it was hard to know if she was blushing, but I assumed that she was. "Nothing," I said. I looked back at the screen, feeling baffled. I wasn't planning on getting caught. I felt as if I needed to say something, anything, to lighten the atmosphere. "When we got our dog, I wanted to name her Holly."

"You've got a dog?" she asked without raising her head from the back of the sofa. There was a hint of surprise in the question.

"My mother has a dog. A pug. She was a gift from my father."

"Aww, I love pugs. They look so funny. Did you name her Holly like you wanted to?"

"No, we ended up naming her Sophie," I replied, smiling fondly when I thought of my chubby, silly, lazy dog. "It suits her. Better than Holly, I think."

"You know what I just realized?"

Her voice was husky, getting right under my skin. I was glad it was dark; it hid well the goosebumps I could feel forming on my arms. "What?"

"We never talk about our families."

"That's right, we don't." It had never occurred to me before. "I think it's because I sort of assume you know all about my family, because of your dad, and I know your dad pretty well, so there isn't much to tell."

"Yeah, could be that," she agreed, and the conversation died. We kept watching in silence. When she next spoke, her voice was softer, sleepy. "I really don't know that much about them."

It took me a moment to realize what she was talking about. "Do you really want to hear this now?"

"I don't really mind this part," she replied, nodding towards the screen, where a mysterious man was stalking Paul Varjak through Central Park. "Besides, I'm curious," she added, as if she needed a justification. Her eyes were gleaming in the light from the purplish light. I couldn't possibly refuse her.

So with the revelation of Holly Golightly's past unfolding in the background, I did as she'd asked. I told her about my parents, about Emmett and Rosalie, about Sophie. She asked some questions at first, but even when she didn't, it didn't discourage me. I assumed she would stop me if I was talking too much.

"And then there's my cousin Alice. She's a crazy one but we love her to death. It's funny we never got to talk about her. She's a dancer too, you probably know her from classes or something. I bet you two could be good friends if – "

My voice trailed when I looked up and caught sight of her, fast asleep against the back of the sofa. I felt my lips curl in a smile. Who knew how long she'd been out without me noticing. I reached for the remote and stopped the film. Audrey Hepburn was glaring at me in frozen astonishment, as if I had personally offended her.

I leaned over and brushed my hand across Bella's cheek, holding my breath as I did. It was the first time I'd touched her deliberately. It was silly to keep score that way, but I couldn't help it. Her skin was smooth and warm beneath my palm. I resisted the urge to leave it there.

She flinched at the touch, and her eyes slowly opened. Her disoriented gaze met mine. "What's wrong?" she murmured in that same sultry tone from earlier.

"I think you'd better get home," my voice was quiet, matching hers. I couldn't stop myself. I reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes followed my movement as she slowly came to focus.

"I fell asleep?"

I flashed a crooked smile at her. "In the middle of my story; should I be very offended?"

She returned my smile. I moved slightly backwards as she straightened up. She ran a hand through her hair and yawed. "I'm sorry. I didn't get much sleep this week."

I knew what would be the most chivalrous thing to do, but I didn't dare to. Asking her to spend the night here, even under the most dignified circumstances, was nothing but pushing my luck. And my limits. She would never speak to me after that. "Do you want me to call a taxi? Or walk you back?" I asked, getting up the moment she did.

"No, of course not."

I walked her to the door, and held out her coat for her as she slipped her arms through the sleeves. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

"I'll be fine," she insisted. She seemed more awake now, which was reassuring. "Good night."

The smile lingered in her eyes, and I couldn't stop myself from returning it. Leaning closer, I placed my hand on her waist. I could hear her sharp intake of breath, but I didn't let it deter me. All I meant to do was kiss her lightly on the cheek. An innocent goodnight kiss. Slowly, carefully, I let my lips flutter against her cheek. She was standing so close; I could feel the erratic rhythm of her heart. I wondered if it meant she could feel mine. Her eyes were locked with mine, questioning, curious, scared, all at the same time. And in that hint of a moment, I wanted to do something else entirely.

"It's okay," I murmured, hoping to reassure myself as well as her. I thought I found approval in her eyes, but I didn't stop to make certain. I wasn't sure which of us shifted closer first, but it didn't matter. Nothing else seemed to matter when a second later, my lips touched hers.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven – Bella**

It was as if time had stopped. Everything else ceased to exist except for him and me, captured in this one moment. I could see the intention in his eyes right before it happened. I could feel his hand on my waist a second before he actually touched me. I could hear the alarm bells go off in my head, and feel my entire body tense the moment our lips touched. I shouldn't want this. It was wrong. It was cheating. I should have pushed him back and never speak to him again for taking advantage of the situation like I'd suspected he'd do.

But emotion had its own logic, its own rules.

His lips molded against mine, soft and warm. His hand, still on my waist, groped the material of my coat to hold me tighter. His other hand slipped to my face and came to rest against my cheek. His thumb drew slow circles against my skin, matching the movement of his lips, slow and kind of hesitant at first. His fingers grazed my temple before he tangled them in my hair. A moan escaped me, but it was swallowed in his kiss.

Kissing him back shouldn't have been so instinctive, but it was. I clung to him almost desperately, my fingers gripping at the front of his shirt. His tongue flickered against my bottom lip, seeking access which I'd soon granted him. He pressed me against the door as our kiss deepened, and suddenly his hands were everywhere, as did my own. I traced a line up his chest with my fingers and he hissed into my mouth. His body heat was radiating through the thin cotton of his shirt. I was enveloped in his warmth. He was standing so close, but not close enough. I snaked my arms around his neck, bringing him closer, as my lips crashed against his again and again.

I barely recognized myself. I'd never been like that with Jacob. It was as if I'd never been kissed before. I was getting breathless but I didn't care. I never wanted him to stop, ever. There was liquid fire surging through me, pumping in my veins, and I thought I could live with this feeling forever. It was better than oxygen, better than anything I'd ever felt before. I thought my heart would burst into million little pieces within the next few minutes. I felt my knees give way, so I tightened my grip around his neck for a better balance. He was taller than me; I had to step on tiptoes for doing that. It made my body stretch against his; the ballerina in me was pleased to have her lessons finally paying off.

"Bella…"

Reality rushed in with the sound of him whispering my name. For a moment, I was paralyzed. Everything came into sharp focus, although my mind was in incredible disarray. I couldn't figure out what the hell we were doing, what the hell _I_ was doing, how we got there. I didn't even realize that he was… that he wanted… that _I_ wanted… but then again, somewhere deep down I thought I'd always known.

_Either way, someone's going to get hurt_. That was what I'd told Alice not so long ago. Someone _would_ get hurt here, I thought. This was still infidelity. This was _wrong_. But feeling guilty wasn't going to make things better. The only way to make things better was to put an end to this.

He was kissing his way to my neck now, oblivious to my distress. His breath was hot against my skin, which was already prickling wherever his lips touched. I threw my head back instinctively when his lips settled on my pulse point. I grasp the hair at the back of his neck, trying to resist him, but he misinterpreted my motions and gently sucked on my neck. Keeping my mind on the right track was a struggle, but now that I knew what I had to do, it was difficult to just lose myself in the moment again.

Every cell in my body was screaming in protest when I pulled away from him. "I can't," I breathed. I reached out to touch his bottom lip and raised my eyes to his. "Not until he knows."

He looked puzzled, slightly disoriented even, but he didn't protest when I gently untangled myself from his grasp, trying not to wince as I did. Rejecting him shouldn't be so physically painful. I tried not to ponder over it. He nodded somberly, wordlessly. His eyes, still locked on mine, spoke volumes. I knew he understood.

xoxox

The room was dark when I walked in. Alice's breathing was strained but steady, and I hoped she'd finally be able to sleep for the entire night. I was relieved to find her asleep, because I wasn't in the mood to talk about where I'd been. I knew I had to explain it to myself first. I changed quickly in the darkness and went into bed. I tried very hard not to think of the way his lips felt against mine, how warm his skin was and how gentle his touch felt. I tried harder not to compare it to the touch I'd known, Jacob's touch, because that alone was enough to bring guilt back. For one night, I didn't want to feel guilty. For one night, I needed to be selfish and heartless, because the truth was that there was nothing I wanted more but to be kissed like that again.

The next day, I was astonishingly better. I was more than that. I was feisty as I'd never been before in my life. Luckily, Alice was too groggy to notice, but _I_ noticed. It was there throbbing just below my skin, popping and sizzling in my veins, replacing the fire that had been there last night and had probably caused it. I skipped my regular coffee before the first class – it seemed safer. Fortunately my morning didn't include theoretical lessons, and I hoped to kill off all that energy while dancing. For once, I was grateful for my modern dance lesson. Normally I would resent it, feeling it was such a waste of time when I could practice ballet instead, but this morning it was a relief. I could immerse myself in the music and channel all that never ending energy into it. I wasn't one to stand out in modern dance, but today I could see Miss Ellen, my instructor, was impressed, if not amazed. It made me kind of sad to let her down knowing it was probably a one time thing.

By lunchtime, despite my hopes, the energy hadn't ceased. Replacing coffee for a bottle of water, I idly wondered when I was going to crash, and how bad it would be. I had lunch alone. Usually I'd spend it with Anya, but she was still down with that flu. She looked horrible when I'd seen her the other night. I didn't get a chance to check on her this morning; her roommate said she was still asleep and I didn't want to disturb her. I made myself a mental note to stop by her room after school. I hoped she'd feel better soon. We had most of our classes together on Fridays, and I was beginning to feel a bit lonely without her around.

With nothing else to do but fiddle with my salad and read my book, I could feel the memory of last night slowly begin to wear a more tangible shape. I'd managed to block it all morning, to keep my body and my mind distracted, but I could no longer do that. I ran it back in my head, watching it as if it were a film. I remembered Anya showing up in my room just when I slipped into my sneakers. She looked hesitant, and for a moment I didn't understand why. And then I looked at her more closely, and guessed what she was going to say before she had said it.

During the short walk to his place, I was wondering if I was doing the right thing. I could just call him and tell him we weren't coming. Hadn't I already done something like that a few days before? He'd understand. But part of me didn't want to cancel on him again. And it was stronger than the part of me who was nervous to be alone with him. That alone was kind of silly, and arrogant. By that point it was obvious to me on some level of consciousness that this thing between us was more than friendship, but I was still unable to name it. It was this kind of a bond, stronger than any friendship I'd ever managed to sustain. Surely I could show up there without risking it?

I felt like turning back the moment I touched the doorbell, but I couldn't bring myself to. It kind of made me glad that when he realized Anya wasn't coming, he looked scared too. I remembered thinking he was sweet for cooking for us. The rest was a blur. We watched the movie and talked a little, but I didn't realize I fell asleep until I opened my eyes to find him staring at me.

A part of me wanted to kiss him right there and then.

I shook my head. I didn't need to be reminded how things had gone from there on. I wrapped my arms around myself, but it was hardly enough to restore the warmth of his arms, the security I felt in his embrace, that insatiable fire…

More than the yearning that had still been there, just beneath the surface, there was also dread that was growing stronger as time came closer to my next class.

I stared at my copy of _Breakfast at Tiffany's_, my gaze empty and apathetic. The words were just a clutter of letters, making no sense to me. I hoped to be able to read a few sections again before class, but it was absolutely impossible to keep my focus now. All I could see in front of me was his eyes, dark and burning. I wasn't sure if I was looking forward to seeing him, or scared out of my wits. I wondered what he'd say, what I'd say. Would he smile at me? Would he ignore it altogether, or apologize? We'd hardly said two words to one another before I left, and except for what I'd found in his eyes, I could only speculate how he felt about all this. I was half curious, half anxious to know what he was thinking.

But by the time everyone else had taken their seats in class and Mr. Bronson shut the door behind him, I knew Edward wasn't coming. Dismay hit me harder than I thought was possible. It felt so strange to sit there alone, with neither Edward nor Anya on my side. I was so used to have them around, to turn and flash a smile at one of them in random moments of the lesson, to look up and catch him stare at me, and watch him blush while realizing he'd been caught. Only a night ago, I'd been looking forward to this lesson. Today, it held no interest for me without him there. I sat there baffled and detached, doodling on the margins of my notepad, coming up with endless excuses as for why he wouldn't be there.

Although we got to spend quite a lot of time together in the past two weeks, our schedules were impossible to coordinate on Fridays, and the first time we'd met was this class, so I couldn't know if he just ditched this class, or whether he took the entire day off for whichever reason. But why would he take the day off? Was he afraid to face the consequences of last night? He didn't seem like someone who would escape a confrontation like that. There had to be another reason, a better reason, something that would make more sense than that.

I wondered if it would be okay to call him. Just to ask what was wrong, of course. I secretly wanted to do more than that, but I knew I'd never have the courage to actually show up at his place after last night. At the moment I didn't even know if I had the guts to call him at all, but I felt I had to. I couldn't leave things as they were. There were things to be said, apologies to be made. I felt as if I owed him an apology. In a way, I'd been leading him on, encouraging this when I'd known it had no future as long as Jacob was in the picture.

Why Jacob had still been in the picture was an entirely different issue.

"Yes, Bella?"

I blinked and looked up to meet Mr. Bronson's inquiring gaze. "I'm sorry, what?" I stammered. I could feel my face and ears grow warmer. I felt as if he had put a spotlight right in my face. Everyone was watching me. I clutched my pen tighter.

"You wanted to say something?" he urged me, smiling encouragingly.

Only as he asked it, I realized my hand was still half raised in the air. Damn it. I searched my mind furiously, trying to think what it was I meant to comment about, but all I could see in front of me were Edward's eyes, smoldering in the dim light of his apartment.

And then, for one blessed moment, I remembered. "I just thought it was interesting, the way Holly and Paul are pretty much in the same situation," I said, ignoring the quiver in my voice. "She's a working girl, and you can say he's one, too. They're both are financed by an older person. In his case it's just one woman, in Holly's case, it's several. He's just like her, only he doesn't get fifty dollars for the power room."

"That's a good point," said Mr. Bronson. He looked at me strangely for a second, before he continued a speech that quickly became unintelligible for my ears. I sank back into my daydream in no time.

Now it was clear to me, more than anything, that Jacob and I weren't meant to be, that I had to end it. Maybe it had never been more than a summer romance. I didn't know if I was in love with Edward, but I sure wasn't in love with Jacob. Sure, I'd loved him. But that fire, that passion, that want… those had never been there. And I knew I'd been capable of them. I was, last night. And even if things with Edward weren't going anywhere, I still knew what I had to do.

I knew my mom would be thrilled. She would restrain herself from saying "I told you so" but it would be clear enough from her expression. My dad would be the complete opposite, but like her, he'd try to hide his disappointment from me the best he could. I didn't know if they understood they were both like an open book to me. The more subtle they had attempted to be, the easier it became for me to read them. I wondered if it worked the other way too.

I tried to guess how they'd respond to Edward. My dad admired Dr. Cullen, so I hoped he wouldn't resent me for dumping his best friend's son for Dr. Cullen's son. And if he did, there was no way he could be bitter to Edward for long after getting to know him. It would be easier with my mom. She would be smitten instantly, naturally, but she'd secretly resent me for choosing someone from Forks, the place she hated whole heartedly. I guessed it was my nature, or my fate, to challenge myself with all those long distance relationships.

Wait a minute… what was I doing? Edward and I kissed _once_, and I was already planning on how to introduce him to my parents? I didn't even know if he was still interested, after last night, and with him ditching, there was a good chance I'd never know.

Ugh, I just wanted this day to be over. I was getting melodramatic. I hardly felt like myself at all.

I only knew the class had ended when I heard the buzz of people's voices above my head. If Edward were here, I'd probably tease him a little longer before hurrying towards my last lesson of the day. Thinking of his absence, disappointment came rushing back. I was tempted to just ditch, but I knew I couldn't. Ballet was just too important for me, more important than anything else.

"Bella, hold on a minute, please."

Crap. Mr. Bronson's expression was unreadable as he waited for me to join him by his desk, but I had a feeling I knew what he was about to say. He probably noticed I wasn't paying attention today. Who knew what they were talking about before I made that comment earlier. With that look he gave me, I might have repeated something someone else had said.

"I noticed you were sitting alone today. I couldn't help but wonder about that."

I couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped me. It was a small class and everyone's absence was always noticeable. He knew how close I'd been with Anya and Edward. I caught him hide a smile behind his briefcase whenever he walked into class in the middle of our banter. Me sitting alone today would catch anyone's attention. "Anya is sick."

"And Mr. Cullen?"

"I don't know about Edward, I'm afraid," I said, looking anywhere but at him. I knew it was silly. He didn't know, probably wasn't even interested, but it felt as if I'd give something away if I'd direct my eyes with his, and even though he could probably care less, I didn't want to risk that.

"Oh. Well send Anya my regards," he said, holding the door open for me. "Have a nice weekend."

"Thank you, Sir, you too," I mumbled, and hurried out.

xoxox

I stopped at Anya's room before heading to mine. She was awake and slightly better than last night. She smiled at me as I walked into her room, and laid her book aside.

"No, you to get sick," she protested when I sat at the edge of her bed.

I shrugged off her concern. She looked slightly flushed, but her eyes were alert and gleaming. I smiled. It was so good to see her. "How are you feeling?"

"More good."

"Better," I corrected her, and she smiled. "We missed you in class today. Mr. Bronson asked about you."

"I to miss you too. I to be… what you say… boring?"

"Bored."

"Very bored," she nodded. She straightened a wrinkle on her blanket, not looking at me for a moment. Then when she looked up, her eyes were serious. "Last night was good?"

I looked away. I wasn't ready to discuss it with someone else so fast. I hadn't expected her to bring it up so soon in the conversation, but it was as if she'd sensed something was going on. Almost as if she knew something like this would happen if she didn't join me. And in a way, I knew it too. I shouldn't have gone.

Her hand covered mine, shaking me out of my reverie. "Something happened."

Even with her broken English, it wasn't a question. I sighed. "Yeah, something happened." She didn't say anything. She just sat there watching me patiently, and I loved her for it. "We kissed." It seemed unfair to say that he kissed me because it obviously wasn't what happened.

She didn't squeal or encourage me to speak like Alice would have done under similar circumstances. Her face remained sealed. I wished I could know what she was thinking. "It was bad?"

"No, it wasn't bad," I said, laughing softly. It was anything _but_ bad, and that was just the problem. "It's just… I'm so confused."

"What is he to think?"

"Edward?" It was weird, speaking out his name now, after repeating it only in my mind throughout the day. "I don't know. He wasn't in class today."

She said nothing for a moment, just sort of looked at me, as if she was waiting for me to say more, maybe break into some sort of confession. Then, she shrugged. "You know what I to think."

Yes, I did know. Her words still echoed, clear as in the first day she'd said them. _I think he is to like you, too_. I shook my head. I didn't want to think about it just now. I got up and reached for my bag. "I'd better go. You need to get some rest." I leaned over to kiss her forehead. She was a bit warm. "Call me if you need anything."

As I made my way to my own room, I felt the energy begins to fade. I was slowly coming down from my high, and it didn't come lightly. I felt as if exhaustion was colliding onto me too fast. I was relieved it was Friday. With so much of us sick here, I wondered how it was possible I hadn't been infected yet. I hoped it would just skip me. I didn't want to spend days in bed away from my ballet practice. I'd go insane.

I opened the door, expecting to find Alice sick and miserable, but instead she was on the floor, doing warm ups. "Alice, what the hell are you doing out of bed?" I asked, pretending to be horrified with her. I dropped my bag on my bed and kicked my shoes off.

"I'm feeling better!" she beamed at me. "I couldn't stay in bed one more minute! I'm not completely better, but I can speak like a normal person again. My bones are aching, I feel I haven't danced in _ages_! I still have a fever, so that means I still can't go to classes or go down to Starbucks to visit my latte boy."

"Jasper the latte boy?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"Indeed," she flashed a toothy grin at me. Then she did a double take and watched me more closely. "You're looking different."

"Am I?" I asked, turning my back on her. I cursed my bad luck. Why couldn't this happen when she was still high from medications? "I just had a good day, that's all." I grabbed some spare clothes and my toiletries bag and was by the door in a record time. "I'm going to take a shower."

I heard her call out something after me, but I didn't stop to question it.

xoxox

I told Alice I had a lot of homework to catch up on, and so she didn't question me for the rest of the evening. I watched her from over my book and waited until she took her antibiotics. Those pills had always knocked her out dead, and it wasn't more than fifteen minutes before she fell asleep. Only when I was sure she was out cold I snuck out of the room.

It was hardly nine, but on a Friday, everyone had better things to do than hang out in the common room. The phone was surprisingly available. I had his number memorized; I'd had it since the first time he'd invited Anya and me over. I hesitated when I dialed, but only for a moment. If I didn't say anything about the other night, I still wanted to know if he was okay.

"Hello?"

My heart lifted, and began to beat slightly faster than usual at the familiar voice. "Hi."

"Bella." There was a hint of surprise in his voice. He cleared his throat once. "How… how are you?"

"You weren't in class today," I blurted out, ignoring his inquiry altogether.

"Yeah, I was…" He cleared his throat again, and I suddenly realized it was more than that. It sounded like a pretty nasty cough. "I'm sick."

It had never occurred to me I'd been right. He looked pretty awful the other night, but he claimed he was okay, so I dismissed it. But now that he'd mentioned it, he did sound bad. "Are you okay there by yourself? Do you need anything?"

"Don't you dare coming here. If you're not sick after last night, I don't want you to get sick now." I heard him sniff, and groan. "I'm going to kill my cousin."

"Your cousin?" I asked, puzzled.

"It's all her fault."

"You never told me you had a cousin."

"Sure I did, the other night."

"No, you didn't."

He chuckled. "I'm pretty sure I did, Bella."

"I'm pretty sure you didn't," I laughed nervously. His raspy voice made my skin crawl, but in a good way.

"It must have been after you fell asleep, then," he teased me, and then went silent, because we both knew what happened afterwards. "So are we going to talk about it or are we going to pretend it never happened?"

My hands were shaking in my lap. He sounded nonchalant, but I knew it was as difficult for him as it had been for me. I tried to relax. I'd had the entire day to prepare myself for this conversation, and now I found myself speechless and at loss against it. "I'm not sure what to say," I whispered eventually.

"Maybe you can answer something for me, then. Something I've been wondering about."

His voice was velvet. I shivered involuntarily. "Okay," I said slowly. I guessed it was the least I owed him.

"After I kissed you," he started hesitantly, as if the concept had been strange to him. "You didn't say you didn't want to do this; you said you couldn't do this," he pointed out. "You also said, 'not until he knows'."

"I know what I said, Edward," I said as softly as I could.

"I guess what I'm wondering is why you said it."

I felt my cheeks grow hot. I was grateful he was on the other end and couldn't see me. I knew it wasn't a conversation I would have been able to have face to face.

"Bella?"

"Yes, I'm here."

"Will it help if I say it first?"

For a second, I forgot how to breathe. "Umm, sure…?"

"I know about Jacob. And I didn't mean to come between you two, I really didn't. But it's stronger than me. And I should probably have said something before kissing you last night, but I… what I'm trying to say is that I like you. I like you a lot."

It took only a second for the words to sink in. "I like you, too," I heard myself say. It shouldn't be so easy. It shouldn't feel so right. "More than I probably should."

"But you and Jacob – "

I shook my head sadly even though he couldn't see me. "It's over with Jacob. It's been over for a while."

Then there was silence, as if he needed a moment to digest this. "What do you want to do?" he asked, so quietly I'd hardly heard him. "I mean, is this the part where you're telling me you never want to see me again?"

I laughed softly. I wondered if whatever medication he'd been on was making him delirious. "Edward, which part of 'I like you more than I should' have you missed?"

"I just… assumed you'd want to… I don't know, see me less, I guess. For a while."

"It's probably safer," I admitted reluctantly. "I can't do this knowing Jacob doesn't know anything. It isn't fair."

"I agree."

"I just need to think of a way to break this to him. Until I do, maybe it's best we don't see each other as often."

"Yeah, I know."

There was a long pause, one which I'd felt obliged to break. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

"Yes, I'll be fine."

I wasn't sure to which of the smaller, subtler questions he was replying. I just hoped it was true. My throat felt tight, as if with tears. "Still friends?"

I wondered if hearing the question was as painful as uttering it. It was a moment before he replied. "Still friends." I was about to say goodnight, when he spoke again. "And Bella?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry."

It was the only moment I regretted he wasn't there to see the smile that curled on my lips. "I'm not."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve – Edward**

Having our feelings out in the open (well, sort of) didn't bring on the relief I was hoping for. As unbearable as the thought was, I meant to do everything in my power to avoid her. Luckily, for the first few days I'd been confined to my apartment, sick like I hadn't been since sophomore year in high school, so looking for her wasn't even remotely possible. When I returned to school, I had so much stuff to catch up on, that I just shut myself in one of the acoustic rooms and tried to deal with the consequences of my absence. As eager as I'd been to see her, I also dreaded a face to face meeting, knowing that the memory of that single kiss would surface as soon as I saw her.

I wasn't sure if I was supposed to be pissed off at Mr. Shapiro or eternally grateful to him when he dismissed me in a ten minutes delay on Friday. All morning I'd plotted exactly what I'd say to Bella before class, and now I had to rush in a few minutes after the lesson had started. There wasn't a chance to even talk to her now. She was the first person I saw, even before I glanced at Mr. Bronson and nodded in wordless apology. I could feel Anya's eyes on me as well, but I couldn't bring myself to acknowledge her just yet. My eyes were all for Bella. I took in the sight of her, smiling at me as I breathlessly took my seat next to her. Her eyes were gleaming with what seemed like relief. She reached for her pen and scribbled something at the top of her notepad, keeping her eyes on the board as she pushed it in my direction. _welcome back_, it said. It made me ridiculously happy that she was anxious to see me as much as I'd been anxious about seeing her.

The rest of the lesson was torturous. We were analyzing James Joyce's _The Dead_. I'd been too sick, and then too busy, to catch up on this week's reading. I'd read this story before, but it'd been years. It made me feel completely lost, and I had to pay closer attention to everything everyone said. Her nearness was making it exceptionally difficult. The shortest of glimpses was enough to bring back those sensations I'd been struggling to repress. I shouldn't remember how good her body felt against mine, the warmth of her skin or the softness of her lips, but there was no getting away with it. The memory burnt like fire, engraved onto my skin, my body, my heart, but so was the realization that nothing could happen between us, at least for the time being.

It made me wonder how she was going to break it to Jacob. She said she needed time, and I knew she wasn't just saying that to brush me off with an excuse. As inconceivable as the idea had been to me, she really wanted to be with me too. It was cruel and kind of hypocritical of me, but I felt really sorry for Jacob, across the state from here and completely oblivious.

The class was slowly drifting to a close, and I wondered what I should do next. She smiled at me when I walked in, and she wrote that note for me, but I wasn't sure if we were on proper speaking terms now. I promised myself I'd keep my distance from her until everything was alright and settled, but clearly she hadn't been keeping hers, so it meant I _could_ say something to her, didn't it?

She'd made the decision for me. She stood up the moment I did and her lips curled into a tiny yet clearly not hostile smile. "Hey."

I dared to breathe again. "Hi."

She eyed me carefully. "How are you feeling?"

"Better. It's good to be back." There were so many things I wanted to say to her, so many questions I wanted to ask, but now they all felt inappropriate or irrelevant. I found myself searching for words as the conversation quickly died. It was an odd feeling. Things had never been uncomfortable with Bella. It felt strange to struggle for words with her.

"I tried to call you a few times this week, to check on you."

I didn't realize how much I'd missed that blush until I saw it tint her cheeks. I tried not to appear too thrilled about the fact she'd been actually thinking about me, that she'd called to check up on me, like she'd said she would. I chuckled humorlessly. "If it was the beginning of the week, I was barely conscious to make it to the phone. If it was later, I was probably buried here someplace, catching up on the million things I'd missed."

"Sounds like fun," she sniggered. "There's always Christmas break for whatever you didn't get to do."

"God, I hope not," I mock groaned, then grinned at her. I was looking forward to going home in two weeks and I hated the thought of having to remain shut in my room with never ending piles of unfinished schoolwork. My smile died out a little when I met her eyes again. They were boring into mine with strange urgency, as if she wanted to say something but didn't dare to.

Then, in the next second, she snapped out of it, shaking her head. "Well, I'd better – "

"Can I… walk you to your next class?" I didn't mean it to come out as a question, but I wasn't sure where our limits laid yet.

She seemed hesitant, but eventually she nodded. I slung my bag over my shoulder and followed her out of the room. I felt into step with her easily, even though she was in a hurry. "So do you have any plans for the break?"

"Oh, nothing special. Just hang out with my mom. I've got a few assignments in my theoretical courses I need to – What?"

I didn't realize I stopped walking until she asked it. "Oh, I just…" I ran a hand through my hair in discomfort. It was silly, really. I shouldn't be so disappointed. She'd never mentioned spending Christmas in Forks, but I kind of hoped that she would. "I thought you'll be visiting your dad, that's all."

"I was with my dad last Christmas, and my mom made me feel guilty for months afterwards," she laughed sadly. "So let's just say I've learned from past mistakes. Besides, I know she's looking forward to this, now that I'm hardly home."

Her expression became wistful. I wanted to pull her into my arms and just hold her. I couldn't stand to see her so upset. "Do you miss her?"

Her smile was melancholic. "I miss her every day."

"If it's comforting in any way, I know how that feels."

She laughed softly, but it soon died out. She glanced at me as I followed her up the stairs, and there was this urgency in her stare again. "I wanted to ask you something."

"Go ahead."

"It's silly, but I was wondering if you would do something for me."

"Anything." It was truer than she'd ever know.

"Well, I… I wanted to get something for my dad for Christmas and I was wondering if you could… if you'd mind… I mean normally I'd just mail it to him, but since you're going there anyway…"

It was strange to see her stumble over her words, like I'd done so many times in her presence; strange but at the same time sweet and endearing.

"You don't have to say yes," she added then, as if my silence had suddenly discouraged her.

"No, of course I will."

We reached her classroom by then, and lingered by the door. Girls in various outfits walked passed us to get inside, but Bella didn't seem in a hurry. She just stared at me in disbelief for a second before a slow smile broke on her lips. "I'll… I'll let you know when I have it, then."

I nodded, unable to say more. Her smile was blinding. She turned to go in, but then turned back to face me again.

"If you need the notes for _Breakfast at Tiffany's_ – "

"That'll be great."

She seemed surprised by my fast reply, but kind of amused too. She reached for her bag and pulled a few pages out of her folder. "Give them back to me whenever," she said, and smiled apologetically. "I really have to go now."

But before I could find a witty enough way to say goodbye, she disappeared among the sea of dancers.

xoxox

On Sunday afternoon I finally submitted to Alice's supplications and let her drag me out of the apartment. All those different assignments were doing my head in, and I could use the fresh air. I had an extremely productive weekend though, having managed to catch up on almost everything. I still had a Henry James piece to read for Friday's lesson, and I took my book with me. Alice said she had some reading to do herself, and while I hadn't really counted on her to really mean it, I thought I'd take my chance.

"We're heading that way," she said, pulling my arm.

Although we were across the street, it was obvious that the Starbucks she was leading me to was completely packed. "Are you sure you want to go in there? I know a place just – "

"_Yes_, I'm sure, move it!"

"Where's the fire, Alice?" I laughed, letting her drag me towards her destination.

"I want you to meet someone."

Oh, no. Was it a blind date I'd been led to without my knowledge? "Alice, I really don't think – "

"Come _on_, he's waiting!"

But instead of moving, I halted. _He_?

I followed her blindly through the crowd towards the front counter. There were a few people ahead of us in line, so I took out my book and leafed through it until I found what I'd been looking for. Sticking Bella's notes between the pages of the book was a last minute decision. It was silly to take them with me, but I couldn't help it. It gave me the illusion that a part of her was here with me. I traced a finger along one written line, highlighted in a purple ink. I couldn't help the smile that curled on my lips. Anya had been rubbing off on her.

"What are you reading?"

I shut the book with a thud, capturing the notes inside before Alice could sneak a look. "Nothing."

"We're next."

"Alice, you're fidgeting, what's going on?"

But she wasn't looking at me anymore. Her eyes were all for the guy behind the counter. I wanted to roll my eyes at her, to tease her and ask if that was the best she could come up with, but upon looking at her, she seemed different. If anything was clear, it was the fact that she was head over heels in love with this guy.

"Jasper, this is Edward Cullen, he's my cousin. Edward, this is Jasper Whitlock."

The way she pronounced his name, as if it was the most precious thing on earth, made me smile. I'd never seen her like that. My little cousin, in love. Who knew?

We only spoke a little, because there was an endless line forming behind us. I had to literally drag Alice to the other side of the counter to wait for our orders.

"Snap out of it, Alice," I laughed. It was a new side to her, a softer side, and I liked it.

She seemed more composed as I grabbed our coffee and steered her away from there. The seats she chose were strategically facing the counter. "So, what do you think?" she beamed at me.

I looked over my shoulder and shrugged in mock indifference. "Well, he's not really my style, Munchkin."

She smacked my arm. "Be nice now, it's my boyfriend you're speaking about."

I cocked an eyebrow. To my understanding, she hadn't even dated this guy once. "You think so?"

Her smile was confident. "I _know_ so." She sipped her coffee and licked a straying path of cream off her lip. "So what's up with you? We didn't get to talk properly for a while, I can't believe it's nearly Christmas!"

"I'm fine. School's fine. Everything's fine."

I should have known better than giving her that kind of an answer. She eyed me carefully and then after a while nodded, as if she had it all figured out. "You know, there might be a solution to your problems."

"Oh, really? What's that?"

I sort of anticipated the answer before she'd actually said the words. "Belle, my roommate."

I groaned. I was right. "Please don't, Alice."

"Come on, just hear me out! She was very sweet to me while I've been sick, and we finally got to talk and really know each other. I think you two could really hit it off."

Coming to think about it, maybe I was better off if this _was_ a blind date I'd been led to after all. "I don't want to hear this."

"I really do think you might surprise yourself!" she concluded, completely oblivious to my distress.

"I don't like surprises, Alice," I pointed out.

She'd finally caught up on my mood, and her face fell slightly. She shrank back into her seat, and for one dreadful moment, she seemed really hurt. Then she looked up at me, and I was horrified at her expression. I'd never seen her eyes so cold before. "Why don't you let yourself go? When will you understand that we want nothing but your happiness? What are you afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid of anything."

"Then why won't you meet her? One date, will it ruin you life forever?"

"Alice, I can't date this girl," I said, hoping there was enough finality in the tone to make her stop the questioning.

Apparently, there wasn't. "Why not?" she pressed me, her gaze earnest.

_Because I'm in love with someone else_. That was what I had to tell her. It was the only way for her to let it all go. "I just can't," the spineless wimp inside me spoke out.

"Fine, be a coward, see if I care," she blurted out.

"Alice, come on, don't be like that – "

"You know what your problem is, Edward?"

I was taken aback by her icy glare. She'd never spoken to me so bluntly. "You're going to tell me anyway, aren't you?"

"You don't know how to take risks. You just sit there and wait for life to come to you, but it doesn't always work that way, you need – "

"I know what I need," I cut her off. I was sick and tired of this conversation, of my family trying to manage my life. I took a deep breath. I didn't want to make a scene, surely not here. "Alice, I know you're only trying to help and I appreciate it. I really do. But I need to do things my own way, okay? I just… I'm not like you. I need time. I need to think things over."

"Maybe that's your problem," her tone, softer now, was sad. "You think too much."

"You're probably right," I replied. "But I can't change who I am. Even if I could, I don't know if I want to."

"Then there's nothing I can do to help you."

The saddest thing was that I wasn't sure I could even help myself.

xoxox

I felt really bad about the way my afternoon with Alice had ended. When it bothered me throughout the day on Monday, I knew it probably meant I should go over and apologize. She really did want to help, I knew she did, and all I did was being ungrateful and unnecessarily difficult. So on Monday evening, instead of heading home after my last class, I went to look for her.

It occurred to me that we'd been nearly three months into the semester, and I'd never been to her room once. I didn't even know where it was; I only knew that she lived in the ninth floor. I half hoped her roommate wouldn't be there to save me the embarrassment in case Alice decided to work something out against my will. And then I thought that maybe it would be best if she had been there, so Alice could do as she liked and get it over with. I wasn't sure which option was better.

I met one of my classmates in the hall, and she directed me to Alice's suite. It was the last one in the hall. Following my classmate's instructions, I found Alice's door easily and knocked. "Alice, open up!"

The door tore open, and my very perplexed cousin stared at me. "What are you doing here?"

"Excuse me?" I pretended to be offended. "Do I need a reason to come visit my cousin?"

She said nothing, just gave me that same wide eyed stare. If I hadn't known better I would have thought she was scared. After a moment she huffed impatiently and threw frantic glances on both sides of the hallway. I nearly toppled forward when she pulled the front of my coat and pushed me into the room. "You can't be here."

"What are you talking about?" I laughed, regaining my balance. It shouldn't have surprised me, but this topped any other random behavior I'd ever witnessed with her.

I took in the sight of the room. After having an entire apartment to myself, it looked strangely small, but cozy. A faint smell of strawberries lingered in the air. I could immediately guess which side of the room belonged to Alice. It was pretty obvious, with her junk scattered all over the bed and the carpet close to it. It was a perfect replica of the hopeless mess that had been her bedroom at home, only much smaller.

I stole a glance at the other side of the room, which looked bare in comparison, but it wasn't, not really. The bedspread was soft purple, and I could see that the pillow cases underneath were the same color. There were books and a notepad piled up neatly on the desk, a few more paperbacks on the nightstand. There was a blue leotard thrown against the comforter. I threw Alice a quizzical look. "I thought you said your roommate was an opera singer."

"She is! That's mine," she said, all but launching forward to snatch it off the bed. It was the second time in a span of a couple of days I'd seen her fidgeting. On Sunday at Starbucks, it was excitement. Now it looked like pure nerves.

"Alice, do you need to go to the bathroom or something?" I chuckled. I couldn't help it. She looked ridiculous, bouncing in place like that.

"No. I'm just warming up."

"This is how you do warm-ups," I half said, half asked, kind of amazed with her.

"Yes. Because I need to go out for rehearsals. You just caught me on the way out," she said, grabbing her coat and bag.

"Where are your tights?" I asked. She threw me a look from over her shoulder. I shrugged. "I'm not a dancer, but it's pretty tough to dance in jeans, isn't it?"

"They're in my bag," she said hastily, all but pushing me out of the room.

I was about to come up with some witty reply when something at the far end of the room caught my eye. I squinted, trying to get a better look. There was a framed photo on Alice's roommate's nightstand. From the silhouette I could guess there were two women there, but the light from the lamp fell on the nightstand in an angle that made it hard to tell. For one crazy moment, one of these women kind of reminded me of Bella.

"What are you doing?" Alice's shrill voice was growing impatient by the second.

"Nothing, I was just – "

"Come _on_, Edward, I'm going to be late!"

"You are acting weird," I said. "What is it, are you scared I'll meet your roommate?"

She snorted as if she'd found my question absurd. Her body language said otherwise. "Why would you say that?"

"I don't get you, Alice. Yesterday you would have done anything to have me meeting this girl. Now you act as if you're scared she'll walk in any second."

A knock came at the door just then. Alice went pale, more than pale; she looked almost transparent. "Come in," she chimed, but there was definitely an edge to her voice.

An exotic-looking girl stuck her head in. "Ciao, Alice, have you seen Inga?" The stranger's eyes suddenly fell on me, and she flashed me a radiant smile. I cringed inwardly. "Hi there."

I waved, distracted. I was too busy trying to analyze Alice's behavior. Now slightly more recovered, she frowned. "Nope, haven't seen her anywhere. And we have to go, Camellia, so I'll catch you later, yes? _You_, come on," she commanded, grabbing my sleeve with more force imaginable for such a tiny person.

Somehow I got the impression it was kind of pointless to utter the apology I'd initially shown up here to make.

xoxox

Days seemed to be passing more slowly now that I'd seen Bella less. It was safer that way, and I'd been trying to tell myself that. Things had become kind of awkward between us, and I didn't want to add on to that. Our conversations lessened to hasty moments before class on Friday. We bumped into one another in the hallways occasionally. I was busy with a few things I'd been assigned to before the break, and I assumed she had to handle a similar workload. Either way, I was glad about the upcoming break. Being away from her would make it easier to handle things.

I was almost done with the packing, and the truth was I didn't feel like completing it just now. I sat by the piano and stared at the keys for a second. The silence was piercing, and for the first time in this apartment, I felt lonely. I couldn't wait to get home and see everyone. Alice and I were going to leave tomorrow morning. We would be the last to arrive. School ended only two days before Christmas Eve, so I missed on the pre-Christmas dinner my mom had always made for the family. They all called me the other night from my father's den, because it was the only room where there was a phone with speakers.

A knock came on the door, so soft that the sounds from the piano always drowned it. I looked up from my music sheets in surprise. I wasn't expecting anyone. I'd already spoken to the landlord about my departure the next day. Rosalie had asked me to tell him in case something happened. It could be Alice, of course, storming in because suddenly she didn't have anything to wear for tomorrow's flight. I chuckled to myself when I got up to get the door. I wouldn't be surprised if that were to be the case.

But it wasn't Alice.

Seeing her stand there, so scared and hesitant, I couldn't help but think back of that night a few weeks ago, the night that changed everything between us.

"Bella."

"Hi," she said, offering a weak smile.

"Come in."

"I can't stay long," she said, but followed me in. "I just wanted to give you the package for my dad," she added, holding out a bag. I completely forgot about it. I wondered about it at some point last week, but she'd never got back to me about it, so it kind of slipped out of my mind. "Thanks for doing this," she added as I slowly took it from her.

"My pleasure," I smiled. She returned it, carefully. We said nothing to one another for a second, just looked at each other. Watching her was a luxury I hadn't got to have often recently, so I took advantage of it. "Can I get you anything before – "

"No," she cut me off, then laughed sort of nervously. "I really have to go. I'm leaving tomorrow and I hardly packed anything," she explained. When she looked up at me, she looked almost sad. "When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"I'll be thinking about you." She lowered her eyes as soon as she'd said it. I wanted to protest. I wanted to see the look on her face when she admitted it. I reached out and took her hand. She raised her eyes to mine.

"I'll be thinking about you, too," I said quietly, holding her gaze. I squeezed her hand gently. "Is there any chance I could convince you to give me your number in Phoenix?"

Her eyes widened ever so slightly. Now she looked scared. "Please don't," she begged.

"Hey, I won't use it if you don't want me to. It's just… I'll feel better knowing I have a way to reach you somehow." Now it was my turn to laugh nervously. "It's going to be long ten days as it is."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," she whispered. She faltered, but then reached for her bag and took out a small notepad. She scribbled something and tore out the page. "Promise me you won't use it unless it's an emergency," she pleaded, and her cheeks flushed a little. "I don't want to have to explain this to my mom."

I took the note from her with a smile. "I promise." She looked calmer when I walked her to the door. I lingered there and just watched her again, memorizing her face, the glimmer in her eyes, the shape of her lips. I was going to miss her so much. I didn't stop to think when I slowly leaned towards her. I could only hope I wouldn't scare her off.

"Don't," she whispered before my lips even grazed hers. She moved a little backwards, and looked up. "It's going to be long ten days as it is."

I couldn't argue with my own words. I nodded, and traced a line along her cheek with my finger. Her skin was cold. Her eyes were locked on mine. For one electrifying moment, I couldn't look away. "Merry Christmas," I whispered.

She raised her own finger to touch my bottom lip. "Merry Christmas."

Yes, I thought when I shut the door after her. It was going to be a _long_ break.

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**A/N: if you got up until here, thanks so much for reading. I will love you forever if you drop me a review - just click this nice little button down there :D**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I know it's a little early for Christmas, but here's the first part of the Christmas sequence (because you didn't really expect me to skip their break, did you?). Another emotional one for Bella – I guess it's a sort of a drift from the saga where Edward gets all the angst lol! **

**Your speculations, compliments and feedback always make me smile so **_**please**_** keep it up!**

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Chapter Thirteen – Bella

I'd never been away from home for so long. This revelation only hit me when the plane finally took off, in a half hour delay, heading towards Phoenix. I meant to catch up on some sleep, but found myself unable to. Old memories blended with new ones, keeping me awake and giddy. My mom used to say there was something bittersweet about homecoming. In a way, I'd experienced it at the end of each summer, on the way back from Forks, but never to such an extent, or in such intensity. My absence felt like three years, not three months.

I put my headphones on and turned on my iPod. I found my classical playlist and pressed play. Mostly it included tunes I'd danced to at some point of my life. I wasn't familiar with classical music beyond my dance training, but I found the sounds soothing. Debussy came on. I nodded to myself and leaned back in my seat. I closed my eyes, forcing myself to relax, or at least try. I wanted to let the music carry me elsewhere. But then, a second later, my eyes snapped open when it dawned on me that I knew the room the music had carried me to; I knew this piano and the guy who was sitting in front of it, playing the same composition I was listening to.

I tore the headphones off with a frustrated huff. There must be a way to stop thinking about him. I didn't want to spend my entire break thinking where he was or what he was doing. There was no reason for me to. It wasn't as if we were…

It had been hours since we'd said goodbye on his doorstep, but my skin was still tingling with the phantom touch of his fingers. I traced the same line his hand had made along my cheek, attempting to reignite some of the sensation, but failed. The very thought of him touching me formed a knot in the pit of my stomach. The memory made me shiver. I could feel goosebumps form along my arms. I snuggled deeper into my jacket.

I knew it couldn't go on like this; _I_ couldn't go on like this. I couldn't stall it any longer. I had to talk to Jacob. A part of me resented the idea and came up with endless excuses why I shouldn't do this yet. Wasn't it enough I was going to break his heart; did I have to do this on Christmas?

But there was another part, the part that told me this was right. If I was thinking about someone else instead of about Jacob, if I couldn't stop thinking about that someone, about his voice, his eyes, his touch, then something was very wrong. Or extremely right. But I wouldn't know for sure, I _couldn't_ know, not until I told Jake.

I chose a different playlist, a noisier one, hoping to drown my own thoughts with it. I closed my eyes again and let my mind wander to my new friends. We said our goodbyes this morning, hugging and crying as if we were not going to see each other for months. I didn't want to think how things would be at the end of the year. Saying goodbye to Alice was the most painful of all, even worse than saying goodbye to Anya. I'd gotten so attached to her in such a short time. Even now, I was fighting back tears as I thought of her, looking even smaller that usual with the amount of luggage she'd been carrying, as if she was going home for two months, not ten days.

It was funny, the way these things worked. When I arrived at New York City a few months ago, all I really wanted to do was turn back. All I could think of were the things I was leaving behind: my home, my room, the studio. And now my heart was twitching at the thought of spending the next ten days away from people I'd become so close to in a span of a few months. This was when I realized we'd become a sort of a family. It was a strange feeling, but kind of nice, too. Now leaving _them_ behind seemed unbearable.

Two days before Christmas, the airport was in chaos. I was so overwhelmed by the dozens of people swarming around me, and my sudden fatigue didn't make it any better. I was beginning to fell faint, but I wanted to find my mom before anything else. I'd have plenty of time to rest later. I tried to look over people's heads, but it was difficult. Everyone seemed to be taller than me. Everyone was in such a hurry. For a moment, a strong sense of déjà vu washed over me. It was just like that first day in New York.

"Bella!"

My head snapped up at the familiar voice, and suddenly she was there, right in front of me. I didn't stop to think how it was possible she was there on time, how she remembered my arrival time, how she singled me out among all those people. None of that mattered. I ran towards her and threw myself into her waiting arms. Only when I breathed in her familiar scent, I knew I was really home.

"Oh, baby, I missed you so much!" my mom exclaimed, slowly letting go of me. I held back a protest. I wanted her to hold me for a little longer. We'd never been apart for so long. "Let me look at you," she said, laughing through tears. She touched a strand of my hair and tucked it behind my ear. "Still my beautiful baby girl," she sighed happily, as if this realization comforted her.

"I missed you too, Mom," I said as she wrapped one arm around my shoulder.

"Did you have a good flight?"

"Yeah, I guess." The truth was that the flight was long and boring and I was rather exhausted, but it didn't matter now. A sigh of relief escaped me. Whoever coined the phrase _there's no way like home_ was right. I looked around me as we made our way towards the exit. It looked impossibly more crowded. "I don't know how we're going to find a taxi with all these people."

This was when I noticed my mom's expression. Something wasn't quite right. At the sound of my comment, she halted. She wavered for a moment, and then said, "Bella, I… there's something I need to tell you."

"Mom, what's wrong?" I asked, instinctively panicked. I already began to regret leaving her here. So often I'd felt as if I'd been the adult and she'd been the wild, reckless teenager. Doing things out of a momentary whim had been a habit of hers, and it had always been up to me to put the pieces back together. I sighed inwardly. I hoped for a few days of peace and quiet, away from the bustling school, just me and her at home. I couldn't help but wonder what I was headed to now. Maybe she was trying to tell me she'd sold our house? Maybe we lived in a house trailer now?

"Nothing is wrong, baby, I'm just…" She let her voice trail as a nervous giggle escaped her. I stared at her in amazement. My mom rarely giggled. Or actually, I didn't think I'd ever heard her giggle before now. There was this strange glimmer in her eyes, visible beneath the urgency that lingered there. Okay, so maybe it wasn't the house. But what else could be as extreme and as difficult for her to tell me? Did she paint the whole house magenta? Did she get another tattoo? Was she quitting her job?

But nothing had prepared me for what she said next. "There's this guy."

I blinked. I couldn't believe I was actually having _that_ conversation with my mother. "I beg your pardon?"

"A friend of mine introduced us at a Halloween party. His name is Phil, he plays ball – "

The rest of her tale passed right through me. "You've been dating him since _October_?" I could hear the high pitch of my tone, so it was clear to me she could hear it too. I wanted her to cut me off and deny it all. I misunderstood her, that's all. Some people held Halloween parties at the end of December. It wouldn't surprise me if my mom was one of those people.

But she didn't deny it. She cringed, which told me it was just the reaction she'd feared of. From some reason, it made me sad. "I didn't want to tell you over the phone."

"You _should_ have told me!"

She winced. We had small arguments before, but I'd never spoken to her like that before. From the corner of my eye, I could see two people stop their conversation to throw a look at us. One of them glowered at me with cold disapproval, but I couldn't care less. I could feel the rage growing stronger within me, uncontrollable as wildfire.

"Honey, surely you're not telling me everything about you and Jacob. Don't you think I deserve the same right for privacy?"

"No, you're my mom!" The reply was instinctive because I was so furious with her, but I knew she was right. It would be two-faced of me to accuse her for hiding things from me when I was doing the same. She didn't know what had happened with Jacob before I left Forks. I hadn't even mentioned Edward to her. There was so much she didn't know. I took a deep breath, struggling to compose myself. "So what are you telling me, is it serious?"

"Yes, it's pretty serious," she said, giggling for the second time in ten minutes. It was obvious she was holding back from squealing. "We're getting married in the spring."

I could feel the blood drain from my face as I gaped at her. I knew she'd expected me to hug her, or congratulate her, or do anything to approve what she'd just been telling me, but I couldn't. I just stood there, motionless and speechless. Suddenly the crowded airport ceased to exist.

She reached out for my hand, and I snapped out of it. "He's so looking forward to meet you."

Now it was my turn to halt. "He's _here_?"

She met my glare unflinchingly. "He's waiting out front."

"_Mom_!" I whined. I knew it was childish, and that she had probably expected more of me, but I couldn't help it. I could see what she wanted. _Be nice_, her eyes pleaded. I shook my head fiercely. "You can't throw this kind of news at me and expect me to just accept it, Mom, you can't do that!" I blinked back tears. I was determined not to cry in front of her, in front of _him_.

She took my tantrum silently, but I could tell the words stung. For a hint of a second, her eyes lost their glimmer. "Sweetheart," she said, her gaze earnest on mine. "Ever since I left your dad…" She struggled with words, and started over. "I haven't felt that way for a long time. I'm happy. And he's a good man. I know it must be hard, but please. Give him a chance." She cupped my chin in her palm. I sniffed and tried to look away, but she wouldn't let me. "Give _me_ a chance."

It took all the strength I'd had, but eventually I nodded. I waited until she turned her back at me before I wiped the tears with the back of my hand. Then, I followed her out of the airport. Already this break was getting longer than I could endure.

xoxox

I was looking for flaws that would make me dislike Phil, but unfortunately, he turned out to be a really nice guy. Fifteen minutes into our drive home he got me chatting about my friends in Juilliard and our school activities. He'd never known stage performers before, he said. His sister was a cheerleader when they were kids, but that hardly counted. I learned that like my mom, he'd been married once, but it was short-lived. Unlike my mom, he didn't have any kids. The kids he was working with were his sons and daughters, and he loved each and every one of them as if they were his own. It irritated me that I couldn't find anything wrong with this guy. Except for the fact he was two years younger than my mom, maybe, but that hardly seemed to make any difference anyway. He was chatty and straightforward. He seemed rather smart. He wasn't pretentious. And most importantly, as much as I'd tried to shut myself off to it, it was clear that he loved my mom.

When we got home, he helped getting my stuff up to my room. He wouldn't stay with us. At least he had the decency to give me a little alone time with my mother. I couldn't resent him for that. In return I gave them some privacy and stayed up in my room as they were saying their goodbyes downstairs. I only brought one suitcase with me, but instead of unpacking, I sprawled on my bed and stared at the ceiling. I tried to let my most recent discovery sink in. My mom was getting remarried in the spring. I wondered why it bothered me so much. Many people remarried. I'd never considered the possibility my mom would be one of them. I guessed that like my dad, I also secretly hoped she'd come back to her senses and take him back. Maybe it was naïve, but wasn't it what every kid whose parents were separated had hoped for?

Thinking of Charlie made me sit up with a start. I realized there was a very good chance he knew nothing about all this. I felt my temper rising again. I hoped my mom didn't mean I'd be the one to break this to him. There was no way I could break my dad's heart that way.

"Bella?" My mom's voice sounded behind the door as she softly knocked on it. "Honey, can I come in?" She didn't wait for my permission, and peeked in. She smiled carefully, and came to sit by my side. "Are you still mad?"

I sighed. I _was_ mad, but I wasn't sure what I wad mad at, exactly. I didn't think it was an answer she would appreciate, though. "No, I'm not mad." I forced myself to be civilized. I didn't want my break to be ruined over this. "Is he going to spend Christmas Eve with us?" I couldn't bring myself to speak his name, not yet. It was going to take time to get used to.

She eyed me timidly. "If it's okay with you."

I knew she was asking for more than that. She was asking for my consent. I looked at her closely. She really looked happy, like I didn't remember I'd ever seen her. Who was I to prevent this second chance from her? I was only her daughter. "Promise me one thing though."

"What is it, baby?"

"You're going to tell Charlie yourself."

Her eyes widened slightly, as if she hadn't expected that. But then a soft smile replaced her surprise, and she laid a hand over my knee. "Fair enough." A moment later, she pulled me into her arms. "Thank you," she whispered into my hair, her voice thick with emotion.

I closed my eyes, feeling more selfish than I'd ever felt before.

xoxox

Up until that year and excluding the previous one, my mom and I had always spent Christmas Eve alone. It had never been a big deal. In the last couple of years we'd spent it in front of the TV, having sandwiches and ice cream instead of a huge dinner feast. This year Phil joined us, and my mom went overboard with cooking dinner for the three of us. We spent the entire morning in the kitchen. Without him around, it was just like before, as if I'd never gone to Juilliard, as if she'd never met Phil. I noticed that she was cautious around me, as if she feared I might repeat my outburst from the airport. I tried very hard not to.

Dinner went surprisingly well, and after it was over I found refuge in the kitchen while my mom and Phil began to watch a rerun of _Casablanca_. I was just putting the plates in the dishwasher when the phone rang. By the time I dried my hands, my mom had already picked up. A moment later, she peeked into the kitchen. "Bella, it's your dad."

I felt like kicking myself. I meant to call him before dinner, but I'd been busy in the kitchen all day. I laid down the dishtowel and picked up the extension in the kitchen. "Dad. Hi, Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas to you, too, Bells!"

"Is everything okay?"

"Sure, sure, I'm just calling to thank you. I got your present. You didn't have to get me anything, honey."

My heart flew to my throat for a split second, before it began to beat slightly faster than usual. I dropped myself on the nearest chair. "It's nothing, Dad."

"It was _some_ surprise! It's been years since I've met Dr. Cullen's boy, and Carlisle mentioned he went to Juilliard the last time we met, but I didn't know you knew him."

"Small world, huh?" I mumbled, tracing the pattern of the tablecloth with my finger.

"Really is. He says you're doing really well at school."

I flushed at the thought of Edward telling my dad things about me. It made me feel ridiculously self-conscious. "Yeah, school is great," I replied, distracted. I couldn't believe he got to my dad so fast. I wasn't expecting him to do that on the first day he got home.

"He's a really nice boy, Edwin."

I chuckled. "Edward, Dad."

"So how are you, honey? Enjoying your time home?"

I thought about Phil in the other room, about how he carved the chicken at dinner and toasted as if we were a happy family already. I couldn't help feeling sorry for my dad for his obliviousness. "Yeah, it's good being home," I said, hating myself for hiding it from him. "Have you spoken to Billy lately?" I asked then, hoping to sidetrack him as well as myself.

"Yeah, just this morning. Right, Jacob told me to say hi, I forgot."

Jacob. I felt my heart twitch with guilt. It should be Jacob on my mind, not Edward.

"Anyway, Bells, I won't keep you from spending time with your mom." I tried to block out the pain in his voice. "Have a good holiday."

"Thanks, Dad," I whispered, and put the phone down. I walked slowly to the sink and washed my face. When I joined my mom and Phil in the living room, I could only hope they'd mistake tears for water.

xoxox

A couple of days later, one of my mom's colleagues invited her for lunch, and I used my schoolwork as an excuse to stay behind. I had the house to myself, and I knew that it was the perfect opportunity to just get things over with and call Jacob. My conversation with Charlie kept echoing in my head, his ignorance breaking my heart anew each time. I knew my mom hadn't told him about Phil yet, and while I wasn't sure what she'd been waiting for, I realized that in a way, I was just like her. Waiting for the right moment without realizing there was no such thing. And as soon as I'd figured that out, I knew I couldn't hold it off any longer. I wouldn't be like her. I'd do what I had to do, because as horrible as it was going to be, it was what's right.

I had to dial three times before I got his number right; my fingers were shaking so badly. The dialing tone seemed to last forever before he picked up on the other end. "Hello?" he said, kind of breathlessly.

I clutched the phone tighter to stop myself from hanging up. "Jacob."

"Bella! Hey! Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas." My reply was mechanic. "Are you busy?"

"No, I was in the garage and I thought I heard the phone – my dad's not in. What's up?"

I closed my eyes, then opened them. I could do this. "I need to talk to you for a second."

There was a low chuckle on the other end. "You _are_ talking to me, silly."

"Jacob, I…" I inhaled, but it didn't help. I was close to hyperventilating. This was nerve wrecking. "Ugh, I hate to do this to you on Christmas."

"What is it, Bells?" Now he sounded serious, and slightly scared.

"I've been thinking. About us. I've been thinking about it a lot recently." I gulped. Can't chicken out now, I told myself. "About how it isn't working."

I thought I heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end. "Oh."

"I'm sorry, Jake. I'm so sorry I'm doing this over the phone, that I'm doing this at all, but I… I should have done it months ago. I should have done it in the summer. I just…" I stopped to catch my shaky breath. "I'll understand if you never want to speak to me again, but I just can't pretend anymore."

There was silence on the other end. It encouraged me to keep talking at first, but now it got me kind of anxious. "Jake?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

His tone was off. If I closed my eyes, I could imagine the exact expression on his face – or, rather, the lack of it. "Say something, please," I begged, my voice breaking. Don't cry, I told myself fiercely. _You're_ leaving _him_; you shouldn't be the one crying.

"What do you want me to say?" he sputtered. His voice sounded harsh now, angry. I winced, although it was closer to the reaction I'd expected. "You're dumping me over the phone, on _Christmas_, and you expect me to, what, cheer you on?" Every word was poisonous, like a dagger to my heart. "I thought I meant something to you, I thought you loved me!"

"You did – you do – I do! I do love you, Jake, just not like that!" I knew it sounded feeble, but I had to make him understand. "This isn't easy for me – "

"You're the one leaving, Bella, what about me? How am I supposed to cope with the piercing loss, with the knowledge I will now wake each morning and go to sleep each night without seeing your precious face again? How can I handle the darkness of my life if you walk out on me this way?"

Somewhere in the middle of his hear wrenching monologue, I realized his voice sounded strange. It was a sound I knew, but not one I had expected to hear. His dramatic exclamations sounded like something ripped straight out of _The Young and the Restless_. I narrowed my eyes even though he couldn't see me. "Jacob Black, are you _laughing_?"

At the sound of my demand, he burst into a roaring laughter. I had to hold the phone away from my ear until he was done. What the hell was _wrong_ with this guy?

"I just… oh, Bells… you're… I'm…" was all he managed to say in the midst of his giggle fit. Then he cleared his throat, and I thought he got it under control. "It was too good an opportunity not to take."

I realized after a moment I was supposed to consider that an explanation. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I've been sitting here for days trying to think how to break this to you in a way that won't break your heart and then _you_ call to tell _me_ – "

His voice broke as he began to chuckle again, but I hardly cared about that anymore. "What do you mean you thought how to break this to me? Break _what_ to me?"

"I'm… sort of… seeing someone else." The stammer sounded a result of trying to stifle his laughter, not hesitation. "You kind of did the hard job for me and broke up with me first," he teased, "but I probably would have called you in the next few days to tell you."

For a second, I was completely speechless. _He_ was seeing someone! "Who is she?"

"Leah Clearwater. She joined my class this year. I think you might know her; her dad is one of Charlie's closest friends."

Considering how bewildered I'd been just now, I could hardly remember who her father was. "Oh, my God," I murmured.

"You're telling me," he said, laughing again. When I didn't join in, the sound died out. "You okay, Bells?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just…" And then it hit, and my eyes narrowed again when it dawned on me what he'd just done. "You sly, nasty, selfish _jerk_! You just let me keep talking although you _knew_ – "

"I think I was too stunned to stop you," he chuckled. "Besides, it was fun!" He hesitated, but then asked, "We're still friends, right? I mean, I know it's like the most cliché thing I can say just now, but you called to break up with me, I meant to call and break up with you, so no hard feelings, right?"

"It's just… too easy," I mumbled. I had expected a serious confrontation. I was preparing myself for one. This was so anti climatic. "You're not even mad."

"Mad? You did me a favor!"

I sulked. "Damn you, Jacob Black, I've been rehearsing for _days_!"

He snorted. "Always the artist." There was a long pause. "There's someone else, isn't there?"

The confidence in his question caught me off-guard. "How did you – "

"I just knew, I guess. When I called you…"

His voice trailed off, but he didn't have to say more. I remembered that night well. "It's not really… I mean, we're not… nothing happened," I admitted quietly. It was a strange confession to make, after keeping it locked in for so long. My mind immediately wandered to Edward, miles away from there.

"Is he a dancer?"

I could hear in his voice this idea amused him. "No. He's a pianist." I didn't specify. He took this breakup lightly, but I didn't think he'd appreciate me leaving him for someone who was practically his neighbor.

"As long as he makes you happy."

"I think he will." I was surprised by the confidence in my statement.

"Hey, maybe I'll get to meet him someday."

He sounded as if he was smiling. I cringed. There was a lump forming at the back of my throat, growing thicker by the second. "Maybe."

"Well, I'm glad we got it all cleared up. I'm so relieved, you know?" There was finality in his voice. I wanted to hold on to this moment, of him and me as best friends again, like two summers ago. As if nothing more had ever happened. "You take care, Bella."

"You, too," I whispered. I ignored the tremble in my voice. "I love you."

I heard him gasp. It was the first time I said it first. "Me too, Bells."

I didn't know how long I was sitting there after I hung up, but it was my mother's voice that violently shook me out of my reverie. "Bella? What are you doing sitting here in the dark?"

She turned on a lamp. I squinted, my eyes protesting against the unwelcome interruption. She hovered closer to me, and her tender smile was suddenly replaced with a soft gasp. "Bella, honey, what's the matter? Why are you crying?"

The alarm in her voice puzzled me. I blinked dumbly, and raised a hand to my cheek. My skin was damp. That was odd. I slowly lowered my hand and stared at it. It was wet, glistening with tears.

"Oh," was all I could say.

My mom didn't take her eyes off me as she came to sit beside me on the sofa. She opened her arms wordlessly, and let me nestle into her embrace, as if I'd been five again. And then she simply held me, gently rubbing my back, as I wept against her chest.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: the following chapter is a kind of a comic relief after all the angst in the previous one. It was great fun to write, so I hope you'll enjoy it. **

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Chapter Fourteen – Edward

"Remind me – never to go – home with you – again," I panted, nearly collapsing beneath the weight of Alice's luggage.

She giggled and waved her handbag at me, unaffected. "You're the one who suggested carrying it for me. Grin and bear it, Edward."

"I was trying – to be – nice!"

"You don't _have_ to carry it for me, I can carry it myself just fine!"

"And be responsible for the ruin of your dance career? No, thanks." By then I'd dropped her bags to the floor, so I could finally speak freely again. I straightened up and stretched my arms over my head, sucking in a huge breath in the process.

Alice rolled her eyes. "I do believe you're in the wrong division. Maybe you should consider a transfer to the drama division after the break."

She didn't wait for any backfire, and I didn't have one, so I just used the time to regain some more lost oxygen. I wasn't sure who was coming to pick us up, but I couldn't spot any of my family around. I thought it was better we'd just stay in one spot, but Alice was growing impatient. She stood on tiptoes and scanned the bustling hall. A minute or so later, a huge grin broke on her face as she charged herself into the crowd, leaving me behind with our luggage.

"Alice! Where are you – " I stopped abruptly, realizing how useless it would be to even try and question her. I looked in the direction she'd disappeared just in time to see her launch at Emmett. Relief surged through me. I glanced down at the amount of bags Alice had brought with her, and uttered a silent prayer. Emmett could take care of it.

"Oh, Edward, welcome back!" Rosalie gave me a hug as they approached me. "How's school? Did you do well in your exams? How's our place? Are you taking care of it? Did you break anything?"

"Did you get laid?" Emmett interjected, smacking my back. Rosalie shot him a glare. "What did I say?" he asked, raising his arms in mock defense. Then he looked down at Alice and grinned at her. "Did _you_ get laid, Munchkin?"

"Not _yet_," she beamed at him, clearly happy to play along. I rolled my eyes.

Emmett looked up at Rosalie, who still had that reproaching scowl on her face. "See? Alice understands." He wrapped an arm around Alice's shoulder. "Tell me all about it," he ordered, and she broke into a monologue about that guy who worked at Starbucks as they headed towards the exit.

"So how's school?" Rose asked me as we followed them to the parking lot. They were a few steps ahead of us. Emmett was carrying most of Alice's things and still faster than us, as if they weighted nothing. When I was back in New York, I was getting myself into a gym, I told myself.

"School is great. I got Shapiro."

"Oh, no, you poor boy," she cooed. "He's God-awful, isn't he?"

"He's not… that bad." He'd been my favorite teacher so far, but I didn't want to come up too ingratiating by saying that. "He demands a lot. He doesn't accept less than perfect. He expects you to leave everything behind before getting into his classes. He can be nasty if you don't keep your focus. In other words, most of the time I just fear I'll let him down," I laughed darkly.

"Yeah, he's tough," she agreed. "But you know what? I can't imagine you with anyone else there. I mean, Larsen was okay, but he's just… less, I guess, which was okay since you were a freshman. He's not enough of a challenge, and you need to be challenged. With Shapiro, you might eventually learn something."

"About music?"

"And yourself," she added, smiling.

It was amazing how she used to make everything better with just several words. Emmett had good intentions, but he was too blunt, too direct for me. With Rosalie, it felt as if she'd always known exactly what to say. Must be a musician thing.

She stuck an elbow in my rib, demanding my attention. "So school is great, and what else? Any… news?"

I knew what she wanted to hear. There was this anticipation in her voice. I'd kill Alice if she said anything. "No. None," I said, not looking at her.

She sighed, as if I was a hopeless case. And to her, I imagined I was. "No cute musicians?"

I groaned inwardly. I wasn't home for ten minutes –

"Maybe you should try other divisions. I can definitely see you dating a dancer, maybe Alice could – "

"Come on, you two, move it! It's almost lunchtime and I'm hungry!"

I rolled my eyes, but hastened my steps gratefully. At least I was spared from this conversation. For now, at least.

xoxox

My mother was home by the time we got there, and she and Sophie were waiting for us in the garage. It was great to see both of them again, and I was sorry my father was working, because I really wanted to see him too. After we ate, we all got to work. Our Christmas tree stood tall and green in the corner of the living room, ready for us to tackle it. My mother kept it bare on purpose because she knew we would probably want to decorate it ourselves. I was weary, but this was a task I was happy to comply.

Decorating our Christmas tree had become a family tradition of sorts, and it got even more fun when Rosalie joined us. The girls, my mother included, had always insisted it should have a theme, and Emmett and I had always wanted to just stuff it with all the ornaments we had. In the end of each argument there had always been a compromise of some sort. Somehow we'd always run out of stuff before we were done. Someone had always driven to Port Angeles to get a few extra ornaments or lamps, but mostly we used the same ones for years.

Emmett had spent the morning in the attic, pulling out the boxes where we had stored our ornaments from year to year. For a couple of hours, I could forget about Juilliard and just enjoy myself. I teased and got teased. I laughed when Alice tried to reach the top of the tree and failed, when Emmett wrapped a string of colorful lamps around himself, and when Sophie ran into a pile of garland and didn't know how to get herself out of it. When we were done a couple of hours later, we took turns in taking pictures of our creation. It was growing dark outside, and we let Emmett do the honor and turn on the lights. We all cheered when the tree lit up. It looked spectacular.

Emmett and Rosalie gave Alice a ride home. My mother joined them because she wanted to visit her sister, to discuss some last minute preparations for our Christmas dinner. I stayed behind, faking a headache. The exhaustion was building in throughout the day, and now it was crashing on me, burying me alive beneath it. I couldn't even bring myself to unpack my things. I lay on my bed and closed my eyes, but I was too tired to even attempt sleep.

I stared at the ceiling. The room was swimming in shadows. The silence was almost foreign to me. I was used to the sound of sirens and car horns, to the constant glimmer from billboards and advertisement outside the apartment windows. Here there was nothing but the sounds of the nearby forest. The house was too far off from the main road to hear any car noises.

I reached for the bag by my side and picked it up. On top of everything else was the bag I got from Bella the night before, the one I was meant to deliver to her father. I looked at it thoughtfully for a moment, then sat up and put my shoes back on. If I went now, I wouldn't have to answer questions as for where I was going. Those were questions I wasn't ready to handle yet because I was sure my face would give me away even if I did manage to make up a proper story. My father wasn't due home until much later, and I estimated it would be at least a couple of hours until my mother would be back.

I found Sophie curled on the sofa where I'd last seen her before I'd gone up to my room. "Sophie, come on, let's go for a walk."

She titled her head to the right as if she was listening. She blinked once, and yawned hugely. Even though she couldn't speak, it wasn't hard to guess what _that_ meant.

"Come on, you don't have to actually walk, we're taking the car." I waved my car keys in front of her. She was out of the sofa in no time. I laughed. "Good girl."

Only when I drove into their street, it dawned on me that there was a high chance he wasn't even home. My father often said how Chief Swan had always kept crazy hours, sparing the boys in the station who had families and kids waiting for them at home. I should have checked the station first. And then there was the other thing. I glanced at Sophie, curled in the seat next to me and chewing on one of her paws. What if he didn't like dogs? I couldn't leave her in the car; my mother would kill me if she ever found out.

Charlie's cruiser was in front of the house, so that was one thing less to worry about. I parked right behind it. My heart skipped a beat, which was rather stupid considering Bella wasn't even there. I took three deep breaths before I even dared to step out of the car.

The bottom floor was lit, and as I gained closer to the door, I could hear the sounds of a sports announcer, loud and enthusiastic. I looked down at Sophie, who was sniffing the unfamiliar air. Watching her calmed me down, in a strange way. I wondered why I was still nervous. I'd known Chief Swan all my life, and I was here merely as a messenger. It wasn't like I was there to meet him as his daughter's boyfriend or something.

I knocked before this last thought could sink in. It'd better not sink in.

The porch washed in a soft orange light at the same time he opened the door. He seemed surprised by the interruption. "Can I help you?"

I could hear Sophie's excited pants as she tried to push forward and leap on him. I held her back. She had no choice but to sit down. Her tail was still wagging madly as she looked up at him. Charlie chuckled when he noticed her. He didn't cower back people often had done. "Good evening, Chief Swan, I'm Edward Cullen, I'm – "

"Dr. Cullen's son?" There was recognition in his eyes now, mixed with disbelief. "Boy, you've grown so tall!"

I flushed, but hoped he wouldn't notice in the dim light. "I go to school with your daughter." Your beautiful, sweet, talented daughter.

He looked somewhat taken aback. "Bella?" Then his expression shifted into distress. "What's wrong? Is she okay?"

"She's fine, Sir. She's doing really well at school." His alarm melted into a more relieved expression. I cleared my throat, wondering why it was so difficult. "She, umm, asked me to bring you this." I handed him her gift, and surprise was back in his eyes, as dark and fathomless as her own. One look at him, and it was clear she'd meant the world to him.

"Thank you," he said, slightly dazed, his voice thick with emotion. "What is it you do in Juilliard again?"

"I play the piano, Sir."

He considered it. "How do you know Bella, then?"

I went with the safest, simplest answer. "We have a class together."

I felt a pull of the leash, and in the next minute my hand was empty, and the dog was in the house. "_Sophie_!" I called out after her, mortified. So much for good impression. "Sophie, get back here!"

All I heard was her constant panting from somewhere inside the house, and the sound of a dragging leash. I caught a glimpse of her dashing up the stairs. I groaned. _Now_ she had to be sporty!

"Come in," said Charlie, and there was laughter in his eyes as he sidled to let me through.

I murmured a quick apology and walked passed him. He didn't seem bothered. I was still horrified with her. I followed her upstairs blindly, her heavy breathing leading my way. "Sophie, come on, it isn't funny!"

Faint light spilt into the hall from a lamplight in the street, but other than that, the hall was completely dark. I tried not to think about Charlie, waiting below. God knew what he thought of me now. Even if something did happen with Bella, he would never –

One door was slightly ajar, and I thought I could hear her breathing in there. I pushed it further open. The wooden floor creaked beneath my feet. "Sophie?" I glanced around, and my breath caught, but not because I could finally see her. I was half thrilled, half horrified, to realize she'd taken me straight into Bella's room. She stood in the middle of the bed, wagging her tail as she noticed me. Her mouth was slightly open and her eyes were gleaming, even in the darkness. For one crazy moment, it looked as if she was grinning at me.

The room was bare, which made sense considering it only served her in the summer, but it was definitely hers. There was a poster hung just above the bed. You couldn't see the dancer's face, just her legs and a flowing skirt that reminded me of cotton candy. The faceless dancer was standing on tiptoes. The background was cloud-like, almost as if she was suspended in the air, as if she was flying.

There was a notice board across the room, filled with notes and ticket stubs and photos. I crossed the room on a whim. There was a picture of her with someone who must have been her mother. She seemed about nine, in a pink dance outfit, complete with a tutu skirt and everything, flashing a toothy grin at the camera. One of her front teeth was missing. There were various photos that had to do with ballet, a photo of Charlie and a huge fish, some of the forest, but I didn't linger on those. At the corner of the board there was a more recent photo, from this summer or the one before it. She looked right into the camera, but there was this blush in her cheeks as if she was embarrassed to do so. She leaned against Jacob Black's chest. Her hair fell against his arm. His smile was confident. Hers looked almost aloof.

"Is everything okay up there?"

I tore my eyes away from the photo. I tucked Sophie under my arm and was out of the room in three strides. Sophie squirmed and tried to escape. I held her tighter. She'd done enough trouble for one day. "Sorry about that," I mumbled as I joined Charlie downstairs.

"It's alright," he said, and leaned over to get a better look at the dog. "Well, aren't you a beauty?" he asked her, giving her an awkward pat on the head. She licked his palm. A soft laughter escaped him. "I always wanted to have a dog, but it's tough when I'm working so late." He looked sad, wistful, but soon he snapped out of it. "Anyway, thank you for stopping by," he told me as he walked me to the door. "Tell your dad I said hi."

"I will, Sir. And Merry Christmas."

"And to you, boy."

In the safety of my car, I released the breath I didn't even know I was holding. I sulked at Sophie, but she just curled back in her seat, unaffected. I allowed myself a glimpse up, at the dark second floor, where a single window was facing the street. Her eyes in that last photo hunted me. If anything, it was a confirmation to something she had told me not too long ago, something I wasn't quite certain until I'd seen that photo. It _had_ been over with Jacob.

xoxox

The next few days were a blur of family gatherings, gift exchange, board games, extreme weather and endless feasts. I was determined to leave my gloomy mood behind as long as I was home. I didn't want to spend the break sulking and detached. I wanted to get my strength for the rest of the semester, and there was no better time to do it than at home.

I looked over the room from my seat by the piano. It was about an hour before dinner time, and my mother was in the kitchen with my aunt, getting everything ready. The most amazing aroma spread into the living room. The fire burned in the fireplace, and our Christmas tree looked gorgeous, twinkling with dozens of colorful lights. My father was home, which in itself was rare. He was discussing something with my uncle, Alice's father, at the far end of the room. Alice and Rosalie tried to put Sophie in a sweater Rosalie had bought her for Christmas. Emmett was hovering around, filming everyone with his newest toy.

The bench I was sitting on suddenly groaned beneath another person's weight. I turned with a start, putting an abrupt end to the composition I'd been engrossed in. Emmett flashed me a toothy grin. "Sorry, little bro."

I shrugged. At least he didn't shove his camera in my face again. "What's up?" I asked, picking on a different tune.

"Not much. We didn't get a chance to talk since you got here, just the two of us. Have some bonding time."

I rolled my eyes. He sounded like such a girl, and he knew it. "Did you go to the beach today?"

"I took Sophie out for a run. Or tried to," he groaned. We both looked up across the room. Sophie clearly wasn't fond of her new outfit. It had a pink pompon in front, and already she was chewing on it. "I have a piece of gossip if you're up for it."

It was my turn to groan. "How is it possible you always manage to get people to tell you things?"

"Irresistible charm," he shrugged. "Sam is engaged."

I let out a long whistle. "Good for him."

"Yeah, it's about damn time, he's only been with Emily since, what, elementary school?" He rolled his eyes a little, and then his signature devilish grin curled on his lips, and so I knew he wasn't done yet. "But that's not even the juicy news." He looked smug. "Jacob Black broke up with his girlfriend."

I stopped breathing. Or so it felt. "W-what?"

"The girl he had from Forks. Apparently it happened a few days ago."

My mind was a blur. I forced myself to keep playing, to keep responding to Emmett's stories without looking at him. Playing was getting difficult, though, with my shaking fingers. Emmett kept talking, but I was hardly listening. My heart was thumping so violently I was sure he could hear it. Then after five minutes – or twenty, I completely lost count – Rosalie demanded his attention at the other end of the room, and he excused himself.

I was amazed with my restraint. Somehow I managed to stay cool enough to plan my next move. I stayed by the piano a few more minutes before it made sense to leave without rising anyone's suspicion. I took my time as I climbed up the stairs, fearing to appear too eager. Especially I made sure Alice's attention was diverted. I took the last two stairs in one stride and ran the rest of the way to my room. I knew exactly what I'd been looking for and where I'd put it. My copy of _Breakfast at Tiffany's_ was on my nightstand where I'd left it earlier. I leafed through it until the note fell on my bedspread. I picked it up and glanced at the closed door. Then, when I was sure I was completely alone, I launched at the phone.

I remembered well the promise I'd made to her. Her face was engraved in my memory, as was her pleading stare, but if that wasn't an emergency, I didn't know what was. I tried to prepare myself for a possible attack, just in case. More than anything, I hoped her mother wouldn't pick up.

"Hello?"

It was the sweetest sound, sweeter than I remembered. I couldn't believe it had only been a week since I'd seen her. "Bella, hi, it's me."

I thought I heard her gasp. "Edward?"

"I know you asked me not to call you – "

"My mom is out." I cringed. Why would her mother leave her home alone during the holidays? Before I was able to question it, she spoke again. "How are you? How's your break going?"

But I wasn't up for casual conversations. Not yet. "I just heard. About Jacob."

There was silence on the other end.

"Are you okay?" I asked gently.

"I'll be fine. It was harder than I thought." I tried not to let this fact discourage me. "Hey, my dad said you went to see him. Thanks again."

"You're welcome," I murmured, somewhat panicky. I hoped he didn't give her the full version of my visit. I was still beating myself up for Sophie's attempted escape. "How's your break going?" I echoed her previous question.

"It's… okay, I guess."

She sounded strange. Her voice was soft, but there was a hint of sadness there someplace, and it bothered me. Was she upset to be left home alone? Was she sad because of her recent breakup? I wondered if I was in any position to question it. And then I thought I'd take the chance. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She sighed. "I just… got some news I wasn't ready for, that's all."

She didn't say bad news, I noticed. But she also sounded more than upset. She sounded almost hurt. Emmett said Jacob had broken up with his girlfriend, not the other way around, which made me wonder if he had anything to do with this. Just thinking about it ticked me off. If he hurt her… "Tell me, Bella."

"My mom is going to remarry in the spring. It's no big deal, I guess, I just…"

I was too troubled by her tone to feel truly relieved Jacob had nothing to do with this. "Why are you apologizing?"

She sighed again, exasperated. "Because I'm supposed to be okay with this. I'm supposed to be a grownup. I'm supposed to be happy for her, to give her my blessing. It's just tough." She laughed humorlessly. "It's not the best Christmas break. But forget it. I don't want to ruin yours."

"I'm sorry." I hated to hear her so wounded. I wished there was a way I could help her somehow.

"It's okay. I'll be fine," she said again. I wasn't sure if she was trying to reassure me or herself.

"Where does the Jacob thing leave us?" For the second time in this conversation, I regretted the abrupt question as soon as it slipped from my lips. She clearly had more important things on her mind, like her mother. Besides, she just broke up with the guy.

"Wherever you want it to."

This time there was a smile in her voice, and a definite invitation. Before I could think better of it, I decided to act on it. "Well, for once, I really want to finish that kiss."

"Come back to New York and do, then."

I gulped. Her playful tone was getting right under my skin. "Tell me when and I'm there."

"How about… Maddie's, next Wednesday, six PM?"

I needed a moment for it to sink in. "Are you serious?"

"Be there and find out," her whisper was almost seductive. "Edward?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks for calling. And for not listening to me."

"You're welcome."

"Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Bella."

I stared at the window long after I hung up. My mind was replaying this strange conversation, holding on to each laugher, each word, each sultry whisper. She was so much bolder on the phone, I mused. Face to face she was all blushes, timid glances and coy smiles. Up until now, all the crucial moments in our relationship (or whatever you called this thing between us) were on the phone.

It still amazed me, how much I'd known about her after a relatively short acquaintance. All those years I'd been with Jessica, and I'd never known as much about her as I had about Bella. Maybe because I'd never really bothered to listen to Jessica, knowing none of it will reflect my own opinions or interests. In a matter of weeks I confirmed what I seemed to know all along, that Bella completed me in a way Jessica had never been able to. Her last words echoed in my ears, a promise more than a challenge. _Be there and find out_.

The door screeched, cutting my fantasy short. I turned with a start. My father was standing there. I could feel the blood draining from my face as I met his gaze, horrified. How much did he hear?

"How long have you been standing there?" It was nearly impossible to stop my voice from quivering.

"Just a minute or two. I was about to knock when I realized you were on the phone." There was apology in his voice, overpowering the guilt that still lingered in his gaze. It didn't make me less mortified. He walked in and shut the door. Then he sat on the bed beside me. "Bella Swan?"

I stared at him dumbfounded. He only said her name, but everything was there in his tone, as if he'd figured it all out.

He smiled, probably reading the endless questions in my stare. "I suspected as much during the summer, when I told you about her acceptance. You told us you hadn't seen her in the auditions, and yet you'd known her well enough to know she doesn't go by Isabella."

I lowered my head. I remembered that day well.

"And then I asked myself why you'd act so strange. Only one answer kept coming up."

"We're just friends." For now, I added silently.

"Just as well. I'm just curious. I won't ask you anything; you can take that anxious look off your face now," he taunted me. Then he became serious. "She's a good girl, Edward. Charlie adores her. Sometimes I think he lives for the summers she comes to visit."

I nodded. I remembered what I'd seen in his eyes when I went to see him. "She really is special," I heard myself whisper. I hoped it didn't stand for the confirmation he was still seeking in my eyes.

His expression was enigmatic. "I think it will be good for you."

And with that he got up and left me. I kept sitting there in the dark, my fingers half raised in the air. They began to move against phantom keys, and I sat there playing her tune with her promise still echoing in my mind.

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A/N II: just to let you know this story now has its own album on my Photobucket account. I won't be putting a lot in it, but if you want to see the poster Edward found in Bella's room, and what Sophie is supposed to look like, the link to the album is in my profile. I'm not sure the link is working, so I also added individual links. I'll let you know when I add more stuff as the story goes along.

**Lots of new readers commented on the previous chapter (new to me, at least, haha) – thanks so much everyone, old readers and new ones. I really appreciate everything you guys have to say and I'm so glad you're enjoying this fic so far. See if we can top the reviews to 200 on this chapter…? You know what you have to do ;)**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen – Bella**

The rest of my Christmas break had been uneventful, for the most part. My mom was out with Phil a lot, and while her constant absence wasn't something I was used to, I tried not to hold it against her. Of course she'd want to spend more time with him, especially now, with the wedding looming closer. When she was home, our activities narrowed down mostly to wedding preparations, which was just as bad as her not being there. Three days into it and I was already dizzy from discussing seating charts and catering options and theme colors, but I saw no point in trying to pull out of it. I wasn't due back in Phoenix until four days before the wedding, and so I thought I should just endure it for the time being. It was the least I owed my mom.

The good thing about being away was that I wouldn't have to subject myself to endless dress fittings. It was going to be a simple service without any bridesmaids, so I'd been spared that part, at least. My mom did manage to get me measured so that her dressmaker could have something to work with during my absence. I tried to tell her how unnecessary it had been. I could just buy a dress in New York. Mom wouldn't hear it. I was the daughter of the bride, and it should not be taken lightly, she'd said, somehow able to make me feel guilty for not caring as much. The dress they attempted to put me in was floor length and pink, a deadly combination enough to make me dislike it already. Not only I'd spend the day praying not to stumble over the dress' train; I'd rarely worn pink. I wasn't that girl. Even so, I was too tired, too emotionally drained, to even argue.

Phil was just as enthusiastic about the whole operation as my mother, which wasn't helping my attempts to dislike him. He was so involved in everything, and I could see it was important for him that I'd like him. I hoped he wouldn't expect me to call him Dad after the wedding. I could hardly call Charlie that. Upon my last day in Phoenix, I still couldn't find flaws in him, but I thought that maybe I should just drop the search. Maybe if I wasn't trying so much.

I tried not to think about the future. I'd learned from my mom that Phil was on the road a lot, and already they'd been discussing a possible move to Jacksonville, Florida. I couldn't believe my mom had actually considered leaving Phoenix. She'd lived here since she had left Charlie; our whole lives were here, her work and my studio and our friends. Phil's coach discussed the possibility of getting him a contract in Jacksonville for the summer, and both of them were thrilled. I was just relieved I would probably spend the summer with Charlie, away from this mess. I didn't want to think about what would have happened if I was still attending high school. I would have probably moved in with Charlie. Ugh, living in Forks for good. The thought alone made my skin crawl.

Thinking of Charlie had made me instantly sad. I'd talked to him once more before the end of the break, and he sounded as cheerful and oblivious as he always had. I knew it meant he hadn't spoken to my mom yet about her upcoming marriage. I was mad at her just as much as I pitied him. Surely it wouldn't help things if she stalled it. He had to know. I didn't want to think about what this knowledge would do to him. I felt sorry for him already.

As we said goodbyes at the airport, I made mom promise she'd call Charlie to explain everything. I really hoped she wouldn't forget. I knew it was likely to happen, because you couldn't expect someone who'd often forgotten to pay bills to remember to give her ex husband a call. Knowing her, it would easily be springtime when she remembered she hadn't told him yet. And I didn't want to be there when that happened.

I was still slightly shaken by breaking up with Jake. I was relieved to finally do it, and it had ended better than I'd expected, but it still hurt. My mom was surprisingly sweet and understanding about the whole thing, but when she asked what had brought it on, I just couldn't tell her the truth. Not yet. It felt too soon. Part of the reason I was so anxious to go back was so that I could escape her inquiring looks. When she didn't dare to ask me something in person, she'd just look at me, hoping to force the truth out of me that way. If it weren't for her flighty nature, she could have made a great contribution to the FBI.

The flight was dragging, and I sighed impatiently as I watched the hovering clouds through the window. My book lay unread on the small trey in front of me, a sign for my distraction. I missed my friends terribly, which was a first, for me. The intensity of it caught me off-guard. When I'd spent summers in Forks, I'd never missed any of my classmates. Then again, none of them seemed to matter in the same way my newly found friends had. I exchanged a few emails with Alice and Anya, but it wasn't the same as being there and seeing them every day. Their emails had always cheered me up. I couldn't wait until I saw them again.

Hailing a taxi had become a routine by now, and I laughed at myself at how easy it seemed to me, a New York girl through and through now. I didn't even mind the traffic. My nose stuck to the window, I drank in the sight of the city. This time, leaving Phoenix behind was a relief. I was so happy to be back here.

The elevator was not going fast enough. I fidgeted as it made its way up, painfully slow. I thought how different it was to my journey in September. Then, I was dreading my first meeting my roommate. Now I couldn't wait to get up there and see her. From her last email, I knew Alice was due back a day before I did, so I knew she would already be up there.

I didn't have to go as far as our room. She was waiting for me in the common room, and launched herself at me as soon as I walked through the door. "_Bella!_" she shrieked, squealing as she threw her arms around me. "Hey!"

Slightly stunned, I hugged her back. I should have expected it, but it was impossible to be fully prepared when it came to Alice. She was wearing a new perfume. I could immediately tell, because I loved her old fragrance. It had this exotic scent of citrus and jasmine and something else I could never put my finger on. The one she was currently wearing smelt impossibly better. "Wow, you smell amazing!"

She giggled. "You think? It's a Christmas gift from my brother. You remember my brother Anthony, don't you?" She slowly pulled away from me, her lips curled in her signature impish grin.

"Am I allowed to at least unpack before we delve into that topic again?" I laughed, rolling my eyes. I felt home already.

"Yes," she replied, smiling sweetly, "but we have to hurry. I have a date tonight," she singsonged.

I did a double take. "Excuse me?"

Her eyes were gleaming as she nodded excitedly. "With Jasper. You know, the latte boy. And _you_ are going to help me find an outfit," she added, already dragging me in the direction of our room.

I unpacked while commenting on various items she pulled out of her side of the wardrobe. She threw the discarded clothes in haste, and pretty soon they mounted into a huge pile in the middle of her bed. About fifteen outfits later, all my stuff were in place, and Alice finally seemed pleased with a pair of tight fitting dark blue jeans, cream colored cashmere sweater and black leather boots.

"So how was your holiday?" she asked, glancing at me through the mirror, as she powdered her cheek.

I leaned my head against my knees. "Honestly? Kind of crap." I still felt selfish for thinking that, but it felt good to just let it out.

Alice flashed me a sympathetic smile as she reached for her mascara. "Because of your mom's wedding?"

"Yeah. That and… other stuff."

Her mascara brush froze halfway to her eye. "What other stuff?"

I should have known an enigmatic statement would never go unnoticed. "I kind of broke up with Jacob," I admitted, bracing myself for the attack I knew was coming.

"You _what_?" she screeched, nearly poking herself in the eye with the brush. "You _meanie_! All those emails and never _once_ have you thought of mentioning the _really_ important news!" she accused me, waving the brush at me as if it were a sword. "You, lady, have been holding out on me! Tell me _everything_. No skipping. You _owe_ me."

"I thought you had a date."

She dismissed my reminder with a wave of her hand. "What's a date? _Spill!_"

So I told her everything; well, everything I thought she ought to know. I dropped the bits about my motivation for this rather rushed breakup, the conversation I'd later had with Edward, the meeting we'd set for when we were both back in New York. In short, I left out anything Edward-related. Instead, I elaborated on Jacob's unnecessary hoax and the way he let me go on and grovel for nothing because he'd already been seeing someone else.

When I finished, Alice was uncharacteristically speechless. She shook her head, as if with disbelief. "You are the only person who can come out unharmed from dumping someone over the phone," she said slowly, her eyes a combination of amazement and envy. "You'll have to teach me how to do it, I'm extremely impressed!"

"Yeah, it _was_ kind of mean to do it over the phone, I guess."

"_Kind_ of mean? If he didn't have someone already, he would have been furious with you. I hope you realize how lucky you were." I grumbled. Lucky wasn't quite the way to describe how I was feeling about this. "What was the rush, anyway? I mean, you waited until now; couldn't you have waited until the summer? Unless…" She moved closer to where I was sitting and looked down at me. "Is there something you're leaving out?"

"Leaving out?" The high pitch of my voice was pitiful. I should do better if I wanted to keep things from her.

"Yes. Leaving out. As in not telling me."

"Nothing," I lied through my teeth. I didn't even allow myself to blink. She stared at me for another moment, her eyes locked on mine, as if hoping for me to say otherwise. "Umm, Alice? Your date?"

She sprang to her feet and bounced to the middle of the room. "How does it look?" she asked, forgetting her interrogation altogether.

Allowing myself to breathe again, I smiled. He was a fool if he rejected her. "Gorgeous. Now go."

"Don't wait up," she singsonged as she snatched her purse and danced out of the door.

"Have fun," I said to the empty room, which still carried her new, sweet scent. I could feel the smile still stuck to my face. I picked a cushion that lay on my bed and hugged it as I stared at the pile of clothes on the bed across the room. It was so good to be back there.

xoxox

It wasn't until Wednesday morning that I allowed myself to think about Edward. It wasn't exactly accurate, of course. I thought about him every day since he'd called, but it had never gone beyond simple wonderings as for what he was doing at the same time across the country. But on Wednesday, he was on my mind the moment I woke up. I had the entire day ahead of me before I had to go out and meet him, and I hoped it was enough time for me to get myself together.

I was still hesitant about this meeting. Yes, I had initiated it, but it wasn't until I hung up that I'd realized what a stupid thing to do it had been. I'd literally just broken up with someone. Of course, Edward had a lot to do with the decision to break up with Jacob, but surely I couldn't just… jump from one to the other so easily? Then again, Jacob could, and had. It felt absurd to compare my situation to Jake's. This was not about getting even. It felt too rushed, too impulsive. I hadn't been anything _but_ impulsive since I'd met Edward; it felt so strange.

I knew things would be different, with him. It was already million times different to the way things had been with Jacob. That had to mean something. Besides, he wanted this, too. This was not a one sided thing. Or at least it didn't feel that way. On that single conversation we had during the break, his voice wasn't enough of a comfort. I longed for him to be there and hold me through it all, in a way I'd never done with Jacob. That had to mean something, too.

Alice's shrill voice put a sharp end to my reverie. "Wake up, wake up, wake up!"

I opened my eyes and groaned. This was unusual. Alice was not a morning person. Well, not so much as I had been. And yet there she was, hopping impatiently in front of my bed. This was odd. "What are you on about?" I sat up, yawning.

"Aren't you curious about how my date has been?" she asked, batting her lashes sweetly.

"I am, but I didn't plan on losing any sleep on it," I said, and jokingly pulled the covers over my face as I lay back down.

It wasn't half a second before two tiny hands gripped the purple material and pushed it away. "You should be grateful I didn't wake you up in the middle of the night to tell you."

I groaned again. Knowing her, she had actually considered it. I sat up and ran a hand through the hopeless mess that was my hair. "Fine. I'm up. Tell me."

I guess she'd expected more enthusiasm, for she shook her head and gave me this somber look. The tiniest pout curled on her lips. "Not unless you really want me to."

"Tell me the goddamn story, Alice."

A ghost of a smile crossed her lips. She climbed onto my bed and leaned against the wall. Then, she plunged into her tale. "He had a morning shift yesterday, so he actually had time to go home and change before meeting me, and like I had suspected, _what_ a change! Although I can't say I wasn't _completely_ disappointed. I had those fantasies about taking him shopping and dressing him up, and now it turns out he can take care of himself just fine. But I digress. Anyway, we went to this really nice place he knew, a tiny Thai restaurant in the Village. The owner knows him, so we got a little of everything and let me tell you, the food there is _gorgeous_. We're totally going to check it out someday."

She stopped to breathe. By her expression I knew she wasn't even close to finished.

"He asked for a cutlery, and admitted that while he was a drummer – he has a _band_, how cool is _that_? – he could never handle chopsticks. So I told him he was lucky, because I'd been eating with chopsticks since I was five. You know how to eat with chopsticks, Bella, don't you?"

"Uh, no," I stammered, surprised she even remembered I was there.

"Remind me to teach you once, it's a piece of cake, really. So anyway, here I am, trying to show this guy how it's done, and it surely broke the ice a bit because at some point I caught him looking at me, like _really_ looking at me. I giggled and gave him that look, you know, that sultry one I do," she stopped to demonstrate. "And he said, _I know we don't know each other long, but I want you to know I feel very lucky to be with you_. And I didn't want to scare him off with talks about destiny and all that, so I just flashed him a meek smile and that was that.

"And then we just sat there and talked for _hours_. There were no embarrassing pauses or anything. He already knew I was a dancer, so he wanted to hear all about that. And he told me a bit about his studies – _really_ just a bit because I couldn't hide my yawns when he got into the technical stuff. Computers is _such_ a boring business, if I say so myself. _Oh_, and he asked me if I could come to one of his band gigs," she stopped to squeal. "Imagine how perfect it would be. Me in the front row, and he's dedicating a song for me." Her expression turned dreamy and unfocused as she sat there, trapped in her own fantasy.

"I thought he was the drummer," I said without thinking.

"So it will be a drum solo," she replied, unbothered. "Well anyway, he didn't wait until the end of the date to ask me out again, so we're going out after their gig on Friday. Oh, Bella!" she exclaimed, gripping my hand. "This is _it_, I know it is! I can't wait for you to meet him, not like then at the coffee house but _really_ meet him. I think you guys could really hit it off. He's so smart, like you, and I bet you'll have so much in common!"

"Wait, am I dating this guy or you are?"

She hit my arm playfully. "I just want him to meet my best friend." My heart swelled with emotion in spite of myself. I'd never considered myself her best friend. Sure, she was the closest person to me here; the closest person to me _ever_, if I was completely honest with myself. But I was sure she had tons of friends at home she'd been more attached to than she was to me. "I know he and I were _destined_ to each other, but I _need_ your opinion! And _oooooh_!" she cried out, as if something had just occurred to her, "maybe we could double!"

It didn't take more than a second for the meaning of this to register. "Erm, _what_?"

"Me, Jasper, you and Anthony," she replied, as casually as if she'd already made reservations someplace.

"And when have I given you an okay to date your brother?"

"You didn't," she said, and the impish grin was back. "But you will now, right? Since Jacob is out of the picture?"

For a second, I could do nothing but stare. Then, when I realized she was actually serious, I giggled nervously. "I don't… I mean, Alice, come on, I'm…" I gave up speech altogether. I was too baffled to come up with something that was either convincing or assertive. I couldn't fight her. But I meant to try. "Breaking up with Jacob was harder than I thought it would be."

"No, it wasn't, it was easy! He's not mad at you or anything!"

"It was still difficult, for me. So I decided I didn't want to date, for a while." My voice didn't quiver once. I was quite impressed with myself. "I feel I'd better focus on my studies now anyway, first year and all that," I continued, slightly more encouraged by the fact she hadn't stopped me yet. "Especially now with all those spring projects coming up."

For a moment, she said nothing. Her face was expressionless as she watched me very carefully, as if trying to see beyond the story I'd just told her. Then she sighed. "Look, Bella, here's the thing. About my brother, I might not have been completely honest – "

A knock came on the door just then. She looked up with a start. "Alice, are you there?" A male voice asked. "We were supposed to work on that contemporary piece for tomorrow's class, remember?"

"Okay, Paulo, I'll be right there!" she chimed. She waited until his footsteps retreated down the hall. Then she looked at me again. "I have to go. But don't you think you're off the hook, missy."

"I wasn't counting on it," I whispered, but she hardly heard me. I _was_ off the hook, for now, and that was enough. Knowing she would soon be gone was a relief as well, because this way I didn't have to answer any questions as I got ready for my meeting – I refused to call it a date – with Edward Cullen.

xoxox

Throughout the day, I'd been on pins. I made sure to keep myself distracted and have people around me, so I wouldn't be tempted to call him and cancel. And then at some point I did get to the phone, just to make sure he was going to show up, but there was no answer on his end. Here's your sign, I scolded myself. Just leave it and see how it unfolds.

I stared at my reflection for good ten minutes before I decided to steal some of Alice's lip gloss. I felt kind of silly. I was taking it all too seriously. There was a good chance he wasn't taking it as seriously and then I might be disappointed. But part of me wanted to believe that, like me, he was itching for it to be six o'clock already. I was still ridiculously giddy. Mostly, I was relieved that Alice had been at the studio, working on an assignment she had to hand in the following day. I knew there was no way my behavior would have passed unnoticed by her.

Unfortunately, it was too soon to hope, because the second I put her lip gloss in place, the door tore open, and she marched into the room and dropped herself dramatically on her bed. "I'm _ex-haus-ted_!" she exclaimed. "There's nothing I want more than a hot shower, putting my feet in a bowl of water, and then watching E.R until – are you going somewhere?"

Shoot. "Oh, just out for coffee."

She smiled mischievously. "Are you always dressing up when you're out for coffee?"

I looked down at myself, my heart beating faster than normally. It was no more than my best jeans, a white top and a green cardigan, but maybe the combination was too much? I stole a glance at the digital watch on our desk. It was ten to six. There was no way I'd be able to change without her asking me questions. This would have to do. I risked questioning her statement, struggling to keep my voice casual. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing's wrong with it. In fact, you look beautiful. You don't wear this color often enough, and you should. It makes your hair look nicer."

"Thanks," I muttered, slipping into my coat. I pulled my barrette out of the wardrobe and put it on as an afterthought. Alice nodded in approval. I felt the blush creep onto my cheeks. Damn it.

"Who are you going with?"

"Anya. She just got back this morning, and we have some catching up to do." I took a deep breath. I knew I was risking by merely asking this, but I didn't have a choice. It would look too suspicious if I didn't ask. "Do you want join us?"

I actually held my breath until she replied. "No, I'm too tired. Some other time though."

I murmured something in reply and dashed out. I was going to be late, but I had to do this. I rushed to Anya's room and pounded on the door. Her roommate got the door, but Anya wasn't in. Someone was helping her to get an essay done, two floors down. Too much in a hurry to wait for the elevator, I raced down the stairs, and nearly bumped into her as I stomped blindly down the hall. She gasped in surprise as I halted in front of her. Her eyes became confused as they met my bewildered gaze. "Bella?"

"I don't have time to explain," I breathed. "Alice thinks I'm going out to coffee with you. If she asks, we went to the café down the street, and then I continued to Barnes and Noble, but you were tired so you went back."

A frown clouded her delicate features. "I'm not to understand."

"Anya, please? Just do this for me this once. I really have to go; I promise I'll explain later." I couldn't stall any longer. I held her gaze for a second, and didn't look away until she nodded. Then I turned the way I came, out of the suite and towards the elevators.

I nearly knocked three people over as I stormed out of the lobby. I didn't even stop to apologize. I was already late. Traffic was insane. It was nearly impossible to cross the street. Horrible thoughts whirled in my mind as I ran – what if I was later than I realized? What if he wouldn't wait? What if he'd already left?

What if he changed his mind, and didn't show up at all?

I could see the café now, and I slowed into a light jog. Only now I could feel the drizzle, like sprinklers against my skin. You'd think it would send all those people away, but there seemed to be more of them, swarming around me and making my progress agonizingly slow. For one lucid moment I worried about my hair getting damp and shapeless; then I remembered the barrette I put on as a last minute addition. It should be safe. I was glad I wasn't wearing any makeup.

And then I halted altogether because my eyes had finally spotted him. He was safe from the rain, standing beneath a plastic roof of a nearby restaurant and looking around him searchingly. He lowered his gaze to glance at his watch every now and again. Guilt surged through me at the sight of his expression, a combination of anxiety, hope, despair… I hastened my pace. I would have called out to him, but there was no way he'd hear. I wanted to moan in frustration. His eyes wandered in any direction, but the right one.

I pushed my way through the rush hour crowd. My heart was hammering in my chest. Adrenaline pumped in my veins, keeping the rain and the cold away. He filled my vision entirely; I didn't see anything else. It was almost impossible to believe it had been only ten days since I'd seen him, and even less since I'd spoken to him.

Our conversation echoed in my mind, and for one dreadful moment, insecurity overwhelmed me. Maybe I misunderstood his comment about the kiss. It was impossible it would mean what I hoped it meant. There was no way he wanted it to happen as much as I did. I couldn't possibly be so lucky. It was too easy. It was ridiculous of me to even hope.

But I didn't care; because if I was truly and completely honest with myself, I'd already been in too deep. I missed him like crazy nearly from the moment I boarded on the plane to Phoenix. His voice was the only light through my constant gloom, his words my only solace. The thought of seeing him again was the only thing that made me keep going. And to top it all off, there was nothing I wanted more than getting over there and finishing that kiss.

Our eyes met, and I could feel my face light up. There was so much I wanted to say to him, but none of it seemed important now. He left his shelter and came towards me. I was still struggling, not just with words, but with this excruciating insecurity. And then he was there, in front of me, and speech became impossible altogether.

This time when he kissed me, I didn't pull back.

And nothing else mattered; not the rain, or the people who walked passed us, or the fact we hadn't said one word to one another yet. Words seemed unnecessary. This kiss was softer than the first one, sweet and lingering. I never wanted it to end. I could feel his arms tightening around me, holding me closer. I threaded my fingers in his hair to hold him in place. He was so warm and I pressed myself against him for more. And if I had ever doubted where this was going, I knew I would never doubt again. I was probably in love with him already.

Too soon, he pulled away. I felt his reluctance in the way he gently sucked on my bottom lip right before he let me go. I released his hair, but kept my arms wrapped loosely around his neck. He looked down at me, the cutest grin curling on his full lips. His eyes were glinting with amusement as his finger brushed my cheek. He touched a lock of my hair and held it out for me to see. It was damp. I stared at it in dazed wonderment. I didn't realize it was raining so hard.

"Come on," he said, his grin an inch wider. "Let's get you out of here."

I leaned into his embrace as he steered us towards the café, feeling safe like I'd never been before. It felt so right, so real. In an instant, everything became incredibly clear. The uncertainties were all gone, gone for good. And I just knew. It was the beginning of something amazing.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: the reason for this quick update is the fact that the story is two months old today! Yes, I'm obsessive (or pathetic…?) that way… **

**Two short announcements. As you noticed, the story got to a certain turning point in the end of the previous chapter. The summary is now changed, and Mizra made another pretty banner (link is in my profile), both match the current state of things, plot-wise. One thing that hasn't changed is my love for reviews – keep 'em coming and I will love you forever. You know how much forever means, in the **_**Twilight**_** world :)**

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Chapter Sixteen – Edward

Being with Bella was possibly the best thing that had ever happened to me, but also the worst. It was the best because we'd known so much about each other already, that there were no awkward stages. Our friendship had just taken a new, amazing turn. Being with her was easier than it could ever have been with Jessica. I hated myself for thinking in clichés, but life suddenly had meaning. I missed her every second we were apart, and wanted to prolong every moment we were together. I thought I would never get enough of her.

And this was just why it was the worst – I _couldn't_ get enough of her. I didn't want to. It seemed as if that evening when it had started happened months ago, not days. Every glance, every touch, every kiss were familiar, and yet they felt entirely new each time. It scared me at first. I'd seen this level of intensity with my parents, even with Emmett and Rosalie, but that was after years together. It shouldn't be like that for us, after an acquaintance of merely a few months, and a two-week-old relationship. And then at some point, I just let go of the insecurities and cherished it, as long as it was there.

I knew that sooner or later, my relationship with Bella would come in the way of my studies, and that I would somehow have to balance between being with her and everything else, but I didn't want that either. I wanted to spend every waking hour with her. Our schedules were still nearly impossible to coordinate, which was twice as frustrating now. Even our lunch times were different. During the school day, our meetings narrowed down to brief moments in hallways and outside rehearsal rooms. We spent most evenings together. I found myself counting the hours, and then the minutes, until I'd see her again. It was beyond pathetic.

Luckily, Alice was so caught up with her own romance that she'd remained oblivious to mine. I didn't feel like sharing my newly found bliss with anyone just yet, and Bella seemed to be doing the same. I didn't think any of her friends knew about us, and I wasn't close enough to any of my classmates to share this piece of information with. We'd rarely been seen together in public to be the subject of gossip. It was safe and warm in our bubble, where nothing else mattered; not school or the past or our families. Nothing, except for us.

"From the top, Mr. Cullen, if you please."

I smiled to myself as I plunged into the first notes of the composition we'd been working on since school had recommenced two weeks ago. The only lesson where thoughts about Bella didn't come in my way was Mr. Shapiro's, where I could channel my emotions into the music. He'd commented once or twice about my improvement. He thought it had something to do with the break we'd just come back from, and I didn't want to contradict him. It felt weird to try to explain it to anyone.

I felt the smile curl on my lips as I played on. It was finally Friday. For the first time in my life, I hadn't done my reading for the next class. I'd known _The Great Gatsby_ rather well, and so I hoped no one would notice. Bella said she'd cover for me if worse came to worse, so I hoped I could count on it.

"Alright, Mr. Cullen, very nice. Now, I hate it when meaningless administrative issues have to be discussed on what is supposed to be our playing time, but there are a few things I've been asked to speak with you about. As you probably remember from last year, in the middle of the year, the school conducts its spring projects. Last year it was decided to do an inter-divisional collaboration, as you probably remember."

I did. I had to work with a few other people from the music department to compose and perform a five minute piece. Spring projects were a big deal in Juilliard. In addition to the evaluation of teamwork, each student was measured and graded according to his or her personal capabilities. It was the most important practical exam, except for the finals.

"Well, this year, the school committee decided to be slightly more… innovative."

I studied his frown carefully. "You don't approve, Sir?"

"I understand the idea behind it, of course, but I'm not sure if our students have the ability to do as the committee now requires."

"Which is…?"

"Divisional collaboration. They're pairing students from various divisions for the spring project: drama with dance, music with drama, and so on. It is our job to pair the students according to their capabilities, and surely you can imagine the hassle when one has over one hundred students, like myself."

I couldn't help but smile. So _that_ was why he had resented the idea so much.

And then, in an instant, the meaning of it had suddenly dawned on me, and my heart skipped a beat. "Sir, this divisional collaboration… does it require the two students would be in the same year?"

He huffed, as if he had found the idea repulsive. "Mr. Cullen, it's enough of a hassle to pair everyone in the same year. You don't want me to lose my sanity altogether, now, do you?" He grunted, and then his eyes focused on me again. "Why would you want to know?"

I could come up with some random story about my cousin and make sure I would get to work on this with Alice, but that wasn't my intention. It wasn't Alice I wanted with me on this project. I could feel my cheeks grow warm as I replied. "Well, Sir, my girlfriend is in the first year, so I was wondering…"

But he was no longer listening. His smile grew wider, inch by inch. I winced. He seemed to have figured it all out by now. "May I ask, Mr. Cullen, since when do you have a girlfriend?"

"A little over two weeks." It sounded so feeble while speaking it up. Did people even refer to girls they'd dated for two weeks as girlfriends?

"The dancer you told me about a few months ago?"

"Yes, Sir." There was a swell of pride in me at this confession.

He didn't say anything else, not even the 'I told you so' I'd almost expected to hear, and I was grateful. I felt embarrassed enough as it was. "I'm not sure if the school committee will allow it, if indeed she's in her first year. What is her focus in dancing?"

"Ballet, mostly."

"Classical. And your focus is classical." He looked as if he wasn't addressing me. His brow furrowed again. Then he looked up. "Yes, I believe it can be arranged. I'll see what I can do."

I tried not to appear too enthusiastic. He hadn't given me a positive answer yet, after all. "I'll appreciate it, Sir."

The rest of the lesson had been a blur, and I was sure Mr. Shapiro could sense my distraction. He dismissed me earlier than he'd ever had before, and I could have sworn he winked at me on my way out. The hallways were still empty when I made my way to my next class. Anticipation was building within me, making me giddy with each step I took. I hadn't seen her since Wednesday evening, but it felt like so much longer.

I beat her to class this time, which hadn't happened in a long time. I was alone in the room, so I used the time to get a grip on myself. I couldn't just sit there and smile like a fool throughout the lesson. I picked up my book and started skimming over it. It wasn't much, but it was better than sitting there and staring at the wall. My mind was miles away from there. I practiced self control and stopped myself from looking up whenever the door opened. It would look silly if I did, anyway. I kept my eyes on the page although the letters were mixed into their own intelligible sequence. My ears remained alert.

And then I heard Anya's voice, and held my breath until it was followed by that soft laughter I'd been waiting for. Slowly, I lowered my book and turned. Her eyes found mine instantly. There was a hint of amusement in them still. I forced myself to respond Anya's hello first, but I could barely focus on anything else when she took her seat beside me.

"You're early." Her eyes were saying everything her lips weren't.

"Mr. Shapiro spared me today."

Behind her, Anya was busy with taking out her stuff. Bella glanced over her shoulder before she flashed me a tiny, secret grin, a reply to my own grin, as it appeared. "What are you smiling about?"

"Well, apart for the obvious," I replied, taking her hand beneath the table. Blood rushed to her cheeks in an instant. Her eyes flew around the room, but no one minded us. "I have some good news about the spring project."

"Oh, I heard about that. My ballet instructor said it was kind of a big deal." Her eyes seemed troubled. Her voice had the slightest quiver in it. I wondered if she was scared of it. "What about it?"

"I'll tell you later," I replied, flashing an enigmatic smile at her, just as Mr. Bronson shut the door behind him. She frowned. I leaned forward slightly, making sure she'd hear me when Mr. Bronson called the class to order. "We're still on for that Tim Burton marathon tonight?"

"Sure. My roommate is out with her boyfriend, so it shouldn't be difficult to sneak out." Her eyes were gleaming, but kind of anxious still. "And then you'll tell me?"

I held her gaze until that blush spread across her cheeks again. "And then I'll tell you."

xoxox

_Where are you? I hardly spoke to you all week. Call me! A x_

I smiled to myself as I read her text. It was very Alice of her to lay the blame on me as far as our recent meetings went. I was still shaking my head as I typed a quick reply. _Me? I don't think I saw you ever since you started dating that guy from Starbucks_.

She was fast in replying, of course. _At least he checks on me if he doesn't hear from me in two days_.

I snorted. _There's no way you'll leave him alone for two whole days. You're just trying to make me feel guilty_.

_It's working, though, isn't it?_

I didn't have a chance to reply when my phone vibrated again. _Anyways, it's Friday night. What are you up to?_

_Some friends are coming over_.

_Since when do you have friends?!!!!!!!11_

I rolled my eyes. She was wasted in the dance division, really. She should have applied straight into the drama one. _There are a few things you don't know about me_. I smiled when I thought how true this statement was, under the current circumstances.

_That's because you never tell me anything_.

_You never ask_.

I smirked to myself, imagining her fury over that. I didn't stay to watch her witty backfire. Bella would be here in a little over an hour, and I had a million things to do before that. First I called my favorite Chinese restaurant and ordered our dinner. Then I looked around, and sighed helplessly. The apartment was a mess, one striking consequence of spending all my free time with Bella. I was grateful Rosalie was across the country. I didn't even want to imagine her reaction if she ever saw her apartment at its current state. Not only would she never let me stay with them the following year; she'd insist I'd pack my stuff and leave immediately. I could live in a tent in Central Park, for all she'd care.

I did the best I could to tidy things up in the little time I had, telling myself I'd do more tomorrow. I was determined to devote the entire next day for schoolwork. I'd been doing very little of that lately, and I thought it was time I'd start working on my priorities before I'd be kicked out of Juilliard. And _that_ would give my grandfather enough material for a decade.

After the takeout guy had come and gone, I had very little time to shower and change. I just pulled a new tee shirt over my head when the phone rang. I reached out for it absentmindedly. "Hello?"

"Alice tells me you have some friends coming over to our place."

Oh, no. "Alice should really mind her own business."

"Rose made me call you to make sure the apartment is still intact. She's worried, see, because now that you have friends, she fears you'll tear down our place."

I wanted to tell him to be realistic – they were people like me, hence boring and not into destroying other people's apartments – but I knew better than opening _that_ discussion. "Tell her to calm down, Emmett. It's just me and two of my classmates. We're going to watch some films, that's all." It was pretty close to the truth, anyway. Just a little twist of the facts.

"I didn't know you had friends at school, Edward."

"Remind me again when you talked to Alice? I thought she had a date."

He didn't comment on my change of topics. "She does. She waited for him to finish his shift so she called me. She says she hasn't spoken to you in a week. You were probably really busy with school and your, umm, friends."

I heard the laughter in his voice and rolled my eyes. "Just get to the point, Emmett."

"Who is she?"

I hoped my laughter reflected mockery rather than nerves. "Excuse me?"

"You can't fool me, little bro. Mom also said she hadn't heard from you since you got back."

"I've been busy!"

"Yes, I know _that_. Busy with _what_, is the real question though, isn't it?" He didn't really wait for me to reply. "Just do me a favor and spare our bedroom. I'm kind of fond of our bed."

"Mom will be upset with me for saying it, but please shut up, Emmett." The doorbell rang just then. "Look, I have to go. I'll call you later, okay?"

He roared with laughter. "I really hope not!"

I still had the phone in my hand when I got the door. And then my aggravation about my family dissipated at the sight of her standing her, smiling rather than hesitant. Her eyes met mine, and a grimace replaced the smile. "What's wrong?"

I looked at the phone, then back at her. "Just my brother being ridiculous. It's nothing. Come in."

As soon as I shut the door behind us, I pulled her in for a kiss. The motion caught her off guard; I could feel by the way she sort of stumbled into me. I put the phone down on the first smooth surface my hand had found before I snaked my arm around her. Her fingertips fluttered against my jaw line, not with hesitation, just with endless tenderness. I could feel her smile against my lips as our kiss deepened. It wasn't until I was holding her that I felt the enormity of the deprivation of the past two days. I didn't want another moment to pass without holding her.

I was getting breathless, and so I reluctantly pulled away from her. "Hi," I murmured, my lips grazing her ear. I felt her shiver.

"Hi," she whispered, and there was this coyness in her tone.

"You got here okay?" I asked, brushing my fingers against her cheek.

She nodded and followed me inside. "I didn't even have to sneak out, which was fortunate. I'm such a horrible liar."

I wanted to tell her that she was an adorable liar, but I didn't want to frighten her with cliché talk. It was bad enough to _think_ in clichés. "I hope you're hungry," I said instead, steering her into the kitchen. Everything was still in boxes, but it still smelt great.

She sniffed the air and groaned softly. "Starving. I haven't eaten since lunchtime."

"No one ever told you it was bad to dance on an empty stomach?"

"Probably, but I was probably not listening."

I chuckled as I pulled out a chair for her.

"So are you going to tell me your good news now?" Anticipation lingered in her eyes as she awaited my reply.

I tried to hide my grin as I opened the boxes on the table.

"Fine, we have all evening," she pointed out in feigned indifference, and fished some noodles on her fork.

"How would you feel about us working together on this exercise?"

The fork froze halfway to her mouth. "The spring project?" she asked, surprised. I nodded; her eyes widened further, then narrowed in what looked like suspicion. "How?"

"Mr. Shapiro might be able to pair us together for this."

Suspicion slowly melted into comprehension as a smile broke on her lips. "Really?"

"If you want."

And then something clouded her blissful expression, and she frowned. "But you're second year."

I nodded solemnly. "Yes, there might be the slight issue of you not being able to keep up with the genuineness of a second year student." I tried to say it casually, but I could tell she was already onto me.

"For your information, Mr. Superior Musician, I'm one of the best in my class," she said with an unusual sneer. "So you might want to start worrying about keeping up with _me_."

I sniggered, because the concept of her bragging like that was so absurd to me. Then, very gently, I placed my hand on hers. "So what do you say? Your choreography, my music?"

She didn't hesitate like I'd expected her to. She slipped her hand so it now covered mine. I watched our fingers interlacing. "I'd love to work with you," she whispered.

"I promise I'll try to keep up," I said, jumping on a chance to make her laugh.

"It'll give us more time together," she said, but it looked as if she was thinking aloud, not as if she was addressing me. I nodded anyway.

"We'll see so much of one another you'll grow sick of me."

"Slim chance, Mr. Cullen," she giggled and immediately lowered her gaze, as if embarrassed by her confession.

"I'll hold you on to that, Miss Swan."

We spoke little as we ate, mostly about Mr. Bronson's class. We had a writing assignment due next week, and neither of us wanted to mess it up. She told me a bit about how her day had been; I told her about mine. It felt so… normal. Conversation flowed effortlessly. It always had, with her. It had never ceased to amaze me, nonetheless.

"You're doing it again," she murmured, cutting my reverie off short. I blinked and gave her an inquiring look. "Staring at me with this funny look on your face." There was a nervous edge to her laughter.

"I was just thinking how good we were at this."

"This… us this?"

I nodded, keeping my gaze on her just so I could see the color flush her face once more. "Makes me feel sorry for the time we've lost." If only I was courageous enough to speak to her in Emmett's wedding.

"Don't," she pleaded. "Maybe there was a reason we haven't met before. Maybe we were destined to meet in this time, in this place."

"You sound just like someone I know," I laughed as Alice's image came to mind.

She slapped her palm against her forehead jokingly. "My roommate has been rubbing off on me."

"She believes in destiny?"

"Very much so."

"What do you believe in?" I asked, letting my gaze linger on hers.

Her smile was tight, mysterious. "You'll have to work a little harder to find that out."

"Fine," I said, grinning, as I stood up. "We have all evening."

I chose my three favorite Tim Burton movies and set the DVD. Just when I was about to click play, my phone went off, informing me I received a new text message. Bella retrieved it from the coffee table and handed it to me.

_Boo to last minute shifts_, Alice complained. _We have to cut out date short tonight because J has to work tomorrow!_

I didn't get a chance to reply when my phone buzzed again. _Since it appears I'm available tomorrow, meet me for lunch?_

"Who is it?" Bella asked as I began to type a quick confirmation for Alice.

"Oh, just…" I let my voice trail as I focused on typing in the right letters. I always found it difficult to text and speak at the same time. Alice thought it was hilarious, of course. She could never understand how someone could be so technologically incompetent.

When I was done, I set the phone aside. Bella had kicked her shoes off and was now seated on the sofa. I stalled for a second, and then sat beside her. It wasn't the most romantic arrangement – the sound of Emmett's laughter still echoed in my head – but I didn't want to scare her away so early in the evening.

To my surprise, as soon as I leaned back, she was the one inching closer. She brought her legs up and curled them beneath her as she scooted to my side. I tensed; I only realized it when I saw the uncertainty that was suddenly in her stare. "Do you mind?" she asked timidly.

"Of course not," I tried to reassure her with a smile. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer.

We lasted throughout the first film, half sitting, half laying there. When the second film started, I shifted into a lying position and pulled her with me. She leaned into my embrace without an objection or a protest. I draped an arm over her waist and caressed her palm before I laced my fingers with hers. The tips of her hair tickled my face. I stole a sniff of it every now and again. She pressed herself closer to my chest whenever my lips touched the top of her head. We hardly spoke at all, a random whisper here and there, a comment about what was happening on screen. It was a comfortable silence.

A few minutes into _Edward's Scissorhands_, I heard her chuckle.

"What?" I smiled.

I felt her tremble as I gave her hand a small squeeze. She nodded at the screen. "His name is Edward," she said huskily, as if it had only just dawned on her. She laughed a bit, then sighed, and brought her attention back to the screen.

I'd seen this movie more times than I could count, so instead of adding one more time to that list, I lay there watching her, something I'd never grown tired of doing. She said it was one of her favorite movies, and still there was this genuine fascination in her stare, as if she was watching it for the first time. She'd done the same while we were watching _Breakfast at Tiffany's_, I remembered.

I let my eyes linger on the smooth skin of her cheek. The dim light from the screen gave it a pearly glow. Her eyelashes looked longer, and almost purple. Her body felt warm against mine. Her breathing was soft and even, and the steady beating of her heart was so soothing, like a lullaby. I closed my eyes as strange serenity washed over me. She was here, she was mine, and even if it wasn't for forever, it was more than enough, for now.

The next thing I remembered was a nudge against my arm, gentle yet persistent. I grumbled an intelligible protest, but it didn't cease. Realizing my eyes were closed, I thought it was funny. I didn't remember closing them, but I didn't feel like opening them right now. I was too snug and comfortable to move.

"Edward," the sweetest voice whispered with strange urgency. "Edward, wake up!"

My mind lingered on the quality of the sound rather than on the actual words it had uttered, but all the same, I found the demand strange. Wake up? What the –

Oh.

_Oh!_

My eyes popped open as I jolted awake, nearly stumbling off the sofa. She was no longer spooned against me. She knelt beside the sofa, wide-eyed and frightened, looking as disheveled as I knew I'd looked. "What time is it?"

"A bit after two." I could see one of the films – I couldn't tell which – still running in the background, over her shoulder. That's funny. I didn't even remember getting up to switch them. I looked down at Bella again, and meant to ask her if she had, when I finally caught on her distress. "I _have_ to go back."

She didn't have to tell me twice. We were out of the door in a hurry that would put Superman to shame.

I wanted to hail a taxi, but she told me it was ridiculous considering how close the residence halls were. We rushed down the nearly empty streets, saying nothing. Our hasty steps echoed against the wet pavements. It was bitterly cold, but at least it wasn't raining. Cool wind whipped across my face, making me slightly more alert. I was still partly dazed from sleep, but I felt her urgency in the way she was clutching my hand. I'd never kept her so late before. I hoped she wasn't going to get in trouble. Whether she was or not, I was already beating myself up over it.

We stopped a short distance from the entrance of the building. It was as far as she'd always let me walk her back. I reached out to caress her cheek. She looked worn out. "Will you be okay by yourself?"

"I'll be fine," she assured me, leaning her cheek into my palm. "I'll call you tomorrow… or later today," she corrected herself, grinning. And with a peck on my lips, she was gone. I lingered there a moment longer until I could see her disappear in one of the elevators.

Despite the crisp wind that sipped right through my coat, I made my way back slowly, trying not to think of how badly I'd wanted her to stay the night.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: The site doesn't like it when people upload links, in any form. The messed up links of the photos I tried to put on are now working, head to my profile to check them out!**

**Big thank you to izzzyy for some dance advices in the following chapter =)**

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Chapter Seventeen – Bella

Crap, crap, _crap_!

My mind, still fuzzy from sleep, couldn't wrap itself around any other thought. Nothing would keep it away, not even the warmth of Edward's embrace, the recollection of his face a moment before I woke him up, or his disoriented stare a second after I did. I hastened my steps, more with annoyance than with alarm. I couldn't believe I'd actually done that. I couldn't believe I'd actually fallen asleep –

_Ugh_!

There were a few people in the hallway when I stepped out of the elevator. Our suite was quiet, and the common room was deserted. I took my shoes off as I softly shut the door behind me. I didn't want to make unnecessary noise, and squeaking rubber soles against the floor _was_ unnecessary. This way, with sneakers in hand, I glided down the dark hallway. I heaved a sigh of relief when I reached our door. There was no light coming from beneath the threshold. Please, let Alice be asleep, I murmured a silent prayer, and pushed the door open just enough for me to crawl in.

"Where the hell have you been?"

I lost my grip on the shoes as my hand flew to my mouth to stop myself from screaming. "Alice, Jesus," I breathed, trying to quiet down my now racing heart.

Alice was very much awake. She was sitting on her bed in her nightshirt, her eyes locked on mine. I could feel the intensity of her glare, even in the darkness. "Bella," she said, slowly, and I could see she was fighting for control. Her fists were clutching the sheets. "It's two twenty four in the morning. _Where have you been_?"

I was too tired to even come up with a cover story. In my hazy state of mind, I could think of none. "I… fell asleep," I mumbled, turning my back on her. It wasn't that far from the truth. I _had_ fallen asleep. "I was downstairs with Megan working on something for Music History and…" My voice trailed off as I caught a glimpse of her eyes. She was still glowering. "What?" I listened with dread to my voice breaking.

"Do you _really_ expect me to believe that?" she demanded, enraged.

"Why would I lie to you?"

"If I knew the answer to that, we would have had one problem less!"

I winced. I'd never seen her so mad before. "Alice, you know me better than that." I could barely look at her while saying that. I hated to lie to her that way.

She jumped out of her bed, clicked on a lamp, and stood in front of me. I was taller than her, but her irritation made her appear taller now. "Bella, do you have _any_ idea, any idea at all – " She stopped and took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "If you weren't here in half an hour, I would have called the FBI on you. Do you realize how panicked I've been? I come back and you're gone, and there's no note, no nothing!"

"I wasn't expecting you'd come back before I did," I said quietly. She seemed to have found some hidden meaning in that, because her eyes narrowed. "Alice, look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you like that, I won't do it again."

"You will _never_ do it again," she warned me, her tone ice, her eyes fire. She took another breath, and suddenly her features softened, but only slightly. "Sometimes I wonder if I know you at all."

"Alice, don't say that," I pleaded. Every word stung. "Come on, I promise I won't do it again. Can we just… forget about it for tonight and go to bed? Please?"

She huffed in what sounded like exasperation, as if she knew she wasn't going to get her way on this. "Fine. But don't think I won't want every detail about where you've been first thing tomorrow."

Hours later, when I was tossing and turning while she slept peacefully in the bed across the room, I was still wondering what the hell I was going to tell her in the morning.

xoxox

A few days passed, and I was still trying to make amends to Alice in every way I could. While she clearly didn't forget about Friday night, she didn't interrogate me either, as if she somehow realized I wouldn't say more than I already had. Earning her forgiveness was difficult not because she'd been unwilling, but due to the little time we actually got to spend together in the next several days. Three weeks back into school, and our workload seemed worse than ever before. She had a lot of small projects in her modern dance class, and I was lagging behind on some of my theoretical courses, mostly due to spending more time with Edward rather than studying. I was quite surprised when, on Wednesday morning, she actually smiled at me before leaving the room, and reminded me I'd promised to meet Jasper soon. I was kind of taken aback by this reminder. I was sure the incident on Friday night had shaken the confidence she had in me. I was glad to know it hadn't changed things between us… much.

But about two hours into the school day, the euphoria of this morning was quickly evaporating, transforming into despair. I was struggling with my routine for my choreography course, and it annoyed the hell out of me. Usually I'd been better focused. This morning I was too wired, too distracted, to get things right. I was still trying to think what I was going to do about Alice. No matter what I said or what I did, she remained very cold, which upset me, because I didn't mean to hurt her. It made me think that maybe I should tell her the truth, even though I really hoped things wouldn't have to get there. I didn't want to tell anyone about Edward and me just yet. It felt too new to share, and I knew Edward had shared my opinion. Apart for his piano teacher, I doubted if anyone had known. I knew that sooner or later we'd have to go public, but not yet. I just wanted to keep it to myself a little longer.

I stared emptily at my reflection. She stared back, and there was a hint of helplessness in her dark eyes.

I turned away from the mirror, and tried the combination again. It didn't look half as good as it had in my head. I grumbled. It shouldn't be that difficult! I'd handled worse and I aced them. I really needed to get a grip. I had the room for myself for about an hour longer. I was determined to do it right until then.

I froze mid-spin. The ball of my foot ached with the suddenness of my motion as I landed on the floor. I had the distinct skin-crawling, blood-curling feeling I was being watched. I turned to face the door, and then halted, unsure whether to gasp or smile. He waved at me sheepishly and gestured down where I knew the doorknob was, asking in, I assumed. He always asked permission; he'd never just barged in. I liked it.

I was still across the room when he slowly shut the door behind him. I grinned, making sure I had his full attention. I was tempted to do a grand jeté to really throw him off, but it looked slightly inappropriate in such a small space. I didn't want to crash into him or anything. So instead, with my eyes still locked on his, I launched myself into a series of pirouettes and traveling turns. I finished with one perfect Arabesque right in front of him.

"Impressive," he flashed me a crooked grin as I straightened up. He took my hand and gently brought it to his lips, before pulling me against him.

"Don't, I'm all sweaty," I protested, but he wouldn't hear it. Not that I was capable of keeping away from him for long, anyway. My resistance was crumpling as soon as our lips touched. It was mere seconds before I was beginning to burn. I was getting breathless, not with exertion of the dance, but at the sensation of his lips against mine. It sent flames through me, and made my skin tingle. Whenever he kissed me, it made me think forever had passed since the last time, even if it had only been a day. "What are you doing here?" I asked once he pulled away. I was pretty sure he had a class on the other side of the building in five minutes.

"It's our three weeks anniversary," he pointed out, dead serious.

"Dork," I giggled, ruffling his hair.

The slightest blush stained his cheeks. He shook his head, as if he was trying to rid himself of it. "I really do have to go, though. I know your Wednesdays are horrific, but I just wanted to tell you that. I kind of hoped it would ease the strain of today."

"It worked, I think," I smiled, slowly wrapping my arms around his neck. "Are we celebrating?"

"Yes, but I'll have to get back to you about that," he replied mysteriously.

"Well, don't keep me waiting long," I murmured against his ear. I knew I didn't have to worry about that.

xoxox

A post-it against the door welcomed me when I got back to my room. My communication with Alice narrowed down to post-its these days; she was always out. If she wasn't with Jasper, she was at the studio, working privately with her modern dance instructor. I didn't resent her for it; I couldn't. If anything, I could relate to her devotion, and admire it. I would have done the same.

I was exhausted like nothing else. Like Edward had pointed out, Wednesdays were horrific. The rest of the days were balanced between practical and theoretical lessons, except for Wednesdays. I danced so much that by the end of the day, I was practically dead on my feet. I dragged myself to the common room with my reading for Mr. Bronson's upcoming class. I was proud of myself for being able to finish our written assignment on time.

I smiled at Anya who was by the window, reading. She lowered her book as soon as she noticed me, and motioned me to come closer. Her face was unusually serious, and I immediately tensed. Something wasn't quite right.

"Hey, Anya, is everything okay?"

"Yes. I need to talk to you."

"What is it?"

She hesitated. There was something on her mind; I could see by the way her forehead creased. It was as if she was struggling with words. I examined her face carefully. It gave nothing away. She didn't seem particularly sad or mad or happy. "Bella," she said eventually, and my name sounded strange in her foreign intonation. "I know."

"You know what?" I asked, puzzled. Her eyes were somber, boring into mine with strange urgency.

"I know about you and Edward."

I suspected that my gasp was enough of a confirmation, so I sat there in silence without denying. There was resignation in her voice, so clearly she knew what she was talking about. I was sure I hadn't given anything away, or at least tried to.

I looked up at her slowly. "How?" I whispered, holding on to the secret for as long as I could.

"I to see you. This morning in studio. I'm not proud to tell you this." She lowered her gaze for a second, as if ashamed. "I… how you say… didn't purpose to do it."

I was too distracted to correct her. I simply nodded.

"You to say nothing is going on."

"Nothing _was_ going on, at the time," I agreed quietly. There was no point to hide this from her now. As reluctant as I was to give up the secret, there was a certain relief in talking about it.

"And now? You not to tell anything." Her tone wasn't accusing; just curious, I guess.

"No, I haven't. I… we wanted to keep it a secret, for a while."

"More secrets." It wasn't a question. She didn't wait for my reply. "You not to keep this secret for always, right?"

"No," I laughed softly, "only for a little while."

"Bella, sorry, there's a phone call for you," one of the guys, suddenly above us, informed me.

I blinked, my eyes still locked with Anya's. "Who is it?"

"He didn't say."

My heart skipped a beat, despite of myself. Anya must have noticed, because her lips curled in a grin. She nodded, as if in dismissal.

My heart was still hammering in my chest when I reached for the phone. But the cheerful voice on the other end wasn't the one I'd been expecting to hear. "Hey, Bells!"

"_Dad_?" My jaw nearly dropped, but the initial shock soon shifted into panic. "What's wrong?"

"What, I can't call my daughter to ask how she is?"

"Dad, you called me twice since September," I laughed. "Seriously though, is everything okay?"

He didn't answer for a second, and I was sure he was going to brush me off with another cheesy excuse, but instead he said, "Your mother called me."

_Oh_. "Oh," I echoed my thoughts in a whisper, and sat down. This was going to take a while. "Are you okay?"

"I guess so, I… just need some time to digest this."

"Take all the time you need, Dad."

"Have you… you know, seen him?"

I wondered if he were aware of the aversion in his voice when he uttered that last word. "I have. He's a nice guy, Dad. I think he'll be right for her."

"_I_ could be right for her," I heard him murmur. He was clearly wounded. He would never admit such a thing knowingly in front of an audience, let alone in front of me. "She, umm, invited me to the wedding. I'm not sure it will be entirely appropriate if I come, but – "

"I'd love to have you there, Dad." It would be a comfort to have him around, even though it was bound to break his heart, to see her tie the knot with someone else. "You don't have to decide anything right away. You have a few months to think about it. And…" I hesitated. This was the worst thing about being a daughter to separated parents. I hated being forced into taking sides. "I'm sorry I kept it from you. I just thought it was her job to tell you, not mine."

"No, kid, don't beat yourself up. You did well. I didn't mean to throw myself at you like that, I'm sorry."

"It's fine, Dad, I don't mind." If anything, it was a relief to let out some of my own frustration. No one would understand better than he had.

"Well, forget about it. How's school? Are you having a good time?"

"I am." I changed my tone entirely now. He sounded like he could use the distraction, so I plunged into a tale about school and my classes and my friends in an animated tone that would put Alice to shame.

"I'm glad to hear you're doing to well, honey. Say, do you still see Edward Cullen there? He mentioned you had a class together when he was here on Christmas."

"Occasionally," I replied, heart racing again. How did he do it? Charlie wasn't the most observant person on the planet, and now not only that he brought up the Edward thing, he also remembered his name?

"He's a good boy," he said. "Their dog is crazy funny. You have to see it when you're here in the summer." His voice was hopeful. Then he cleared his throat, and I'd almost expected his next words. "I heard it didn't work out between you and Jacob."

I let out a nervous laugh. There was only one way for him to obtain this information. "Dad, were you and Billy gossiping again?"

He pretended to be horrified with my accusation. "I went down to La Push to watch the game, and Jacob was hanging out with that girlfriend of his. He said you… that it wasn't like that between you anymore."

"Yeah, that's pretty much it, then," I said quietly.

"Too bad. I kind of hoped that the two of you…" He let his voice trail, but the rest was quite clear.

"Nothing ever goes like you planned it, though, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right, kid." He sighed. My heart twitched. I knew he was content up there in Forks, but right now, he sounded so lonely. "Well, I'll let you go back to your day. It was great talking to you."

"I'll try to call more often, Dad," I promised. I hesitated, but then added, "It'll be okay."

For a moment I wasn't sure if I meant it as a reassurance for him, or for myself.

xoxox

"You're awfully quiet this evening," Edward commented, nuzzling my neck. "Maybe I should walk you back. You look like you could use some rest."

"I'm fine where I am, thank you," I laughed softly, nestling further into his embrace. The celebration of our three weeks anniversary had been pushed forward to an unknown time because both of us had some pressing deadlines at school. I really needed to see him after my conversation with Charlie, so I called and asked if I could come over. I knew he'd deny me nothing, even if he was busy. I hardly said eight words since I got there. I was content to just sit there with his arms around me. I just wanted him to hold me.

His little finger grazed my arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. "What's the matter?"

"My dad is messed up over my mom's marriage."

"She finally told him?"

"Yes," I sighed. "And he didn't take it well, like I thought. I feel so bad for him, being there alone. Not that I could do much to help him if I _were_ there. I think the only reason he talked to me was because I wasn't face to face with him." I looked over my shoulder. His expression threw my off a bit. It was a combination of admiration and awe. From some odd reason, it made me feel self-conscious. I could feel my face grow warm beneath his gaze. "What?"

"It's just… the way you talk about both of them. It's like a parent would talk about a child, and not the other way around."

I laughed once without humor. "I've been taking care of Renée through most of my life. The truth is I'm terrified to be here while she's on her own there. I don't know Phil well enough to be sure he could manage her on his own."

I felt him drop a kiss on the top of my head. "My father says Charlie is a completely different person when you come to visit him."

I was too mortified to be flattered. I turned in his arms so I could scowl at him. "You talked about me with your _dad_?"

"He overheard us when I called you on Christmas. I had to tell him _something_."

Mortification shifted into sheer horror. "What _did_ you tell him?"

"Not much. That we were just friends. We _were_ just friends at the time," he pointed out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. Then he grinned, unabashed. "I don't think he believed me, but you can hardly accuse me of _that_, can't you?"

I scoffed, and his grin widened an inch. I thought he deserved a payback. "Your name came up in the conversation today, too."

Unfortunately, he missed the threatening undertones of my statement as he cocked an eyebrow at me, clearly amused. "Should I be really scared? Your father is the one with the weapon, after all."

"Well, he might kidnap your dog. I got the impression he got attached."

He laughed. "Yeah, wouldn't surprise me. Sophie does that to people."

I pulled myself higher in his lap so our eyes would be at the same level. "Will I ever get to meet her?"

"You'll be in Forks this summer, won't you?" he asked, and a sudden shadow crossed his eyes, as if he feared I wouldn't. He seemed to calm down as soon as I nodded in reply. "You'll meet her there, then."

I leaned my head against his chest and closed my eyes. "Don't let me fall asleep," I murmured. His laugh rumbled in his chest, sending shivers through me as it vibrated against my ear.

"Does Charlie know about us?"

"I don't _think_ so. I haven't said anything."

"Why not?"

It looked like he was trying to keep me awake by asking me questions. I cuddled against him. His shirt was warm. "I don't want to share you with anyone just yet, if you don't mind."

"Why would I mind?" His voice was husky. His hand was traveling up and down my back, patting gently. "We _will_ have to tell someone at some point though. My cousin will never forgive me when she realizes I kept this away from her."

"You never actually told me about her yet."

"Maybe I think it will scare you away." He laughed darkly, and for a moment I couldn't decide if he actually meant it the way it sounded.

"Then maybe you shouldn't," I agreed. The last thing I wanted was to be driven away from him.

"I don't like telling you about my family."

The statement caught me off-guard a bit. I got the impression he was extremely attached to his family. I looked up. "Why?"

He looked almost pained. "It makes everything more… realistic, if I tell you about them. And I sort of want to avoid that. They'll flip when they discover I'm seeing someone. I want to spare that from you. From myself, too, I guess." He sighed. "I feel ungrateful to say these things about them, to even think that. I know they mean well, and it's not as if they're interfering… much. It's just… I wish they had more faith in me."

"Maybe they're just worried about you."

"That's just it. They _are_ worried about me. But this worry is pointless, I'm doing just fine."

"I think it's nice, to have a big family like that. You all sound very close. I never had that."

"Now I feel even more selfish," he started to look away.

I grabbed his hand, knowing it would get his attention. "No, don't, I didn't mean it like that. Charlie and Renée are both only children, so I don't really have much of a family aside for them. I knew one of my grandmothers before she died. Do you know your grandparents?"

I felt him tense at the same second his eyes darkened. What did I say? "This is not my favorite subject."

"Why?" I felt bad for pressing him, but I wanted to know. He looked really troubled.

"Because," he said and sighed, as if he didn't know how to continue. "My grandfather would have wanted me to go to med school instead of wasting my time here where my future cannot be guaranteed."

Oh. So it was _that_ kind of a story.

"He didn't speak to Emmett when he and Rosalie got engaged, because he thought Emmett could do better than being involved with a musician with an unstable career who was probably after his money. He threatened not to show up to their wedding, but somehow my father managed to convince him to come. I don't think Emmett has ever forgiven him. I don't want to think about what happens… when he meets you." He shook his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to tell you all that. See what I mean by scaring you away?"

He laughed humorlessly. I tried very hard not to cringe. It broke my heart to see him so upset. "Well, I'm glad I don't have to deal with that sort of stuff," I said lightly, hoping to soften the atmosphere. "You know how weddings always cause trouble. I really hope this one doesn't. I won't be staying long enough to pick up the pieces and someone will have to – " I stopped abruptly when something occurred to me.

"Bella?"

I blinked. He seemed confused by my stop. I didn't remember what I was going to say. I was only thinking about what I wanted to ask him. "Will you come with me to my mother's wedding?" He stared at me, as if unsure whether I was kidding or not. I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "If we're going to go public, isn't it a good place to start?"

"What, you want to stay in hiding until the spring?" My favorite crooked smile was back.

"You can think of it as hibernating," I replied. He sniggered, but the sound was strained, as if he was still considering my request. Suddenly I was anxious for his reply.

"I'll be honored to come with you to your mother's wedding," he said, his gaze intent on mine. Then he chuckled. "My own mother will probably disown me for spending half of my spring break in Arizona, but I think she'll like the reason I'll give her." His smile widened, and I knew it was because I was blushing. "One condition though. You have to promise not to catch the bouquet. I don't think I can handle the pressure if _that_ happens."

"Don't worry, I wasn't planning on it," I replied, slightly baffled. He was only teasing me with wedding talk… wasn't he?

He must have seen something in my eyes, because his own expression suddenly became flustered. "Oh, God, that's not what I was… I didn't mean that I wouldn't want… I mean who wouldn't…"

I laid my hand on his chest. His heart was flying, as was mine. "Can we just… forget we just said all that and not have this discussion right now?" I managed a weak smile. "If you don't want to scare me away like you said, we'd better talk about something else."

An awkward silence had followed – our first ever. His arms were still wound around me, but he was more guarded now. I hoped I hadn't offended him, because I really didn't mean to. I wasn't mad at him; I was furious with myself. I was literally pushing him into making wedding jokes. That was what it was, that was what it had to be. A joke. It was a slip, nothing more than that. He couldn't be serious. He couldn't mean it. It's just… something was very, very wrong. We were together for three _weeks_! I should be freaked out because of _that_, not because weddings in general were an issue I disliked! It shouldn't feel right so soon!

And yet, somehow, it did.

Wedding talk was not a matter I'd taken lightly. I thought my abhorrence was justified, with the way my parents' marriage had ended. I should have run away screaming at the very hint of him wanting to marry me someday, but I was too comfortable to be bothered. So instead, I buried my head in the cotton of his shirt, and pretended we'd never said anything about weddings at all.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: dedicated to Mizra, who is always there when my ego needs a boost. And because she knows Fame rocks =) **

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Chapter Eighteen – Edward

I was still beating myself up over my mistake a few days after our, erm, conversation. I knew those occasional, idiotic slips of mine would be the end of me someday. I couldn't believe I had actually told her that. What was I _thinking_? How could my mind even process such concept? It made me feel ashamed for even thinking that, and embarrassed for letting her know I was thinking that, and then it made me uncomfortable to see how alarmed it had made her. Clearly, weddings were a sensitive issue. It was mostly the case with children whose parents were divorced. I could only imagine it would appear twice as loathsome to Bella, whose mother was going to remarry this spring. A wedding she had invited me to a few days ago. I bet she was already regretting that.

But since the damage had been done, I tried to think beyond it and find ways to keep my promise to her, to forget we'd ever had this discussion. It was easier than I thought. We were both very good in keeping things that troubled us bottled in.

I had hardly seen her at all for the next couple of days, which soon turned into a full week. She had a lot to do for school, and she didn't want to fall behind. We spoke on the phone occasionally, but for short periods of time, because someone had always needed to use the phone on her end. I didn't mind… much. I tried to tell myself a little distance was good. I had a feeling that things between us were becoming too serious too fast. We'd been together officially for merely weeks, but it felt like much longer. I didn't mind that part, but I feared this intensity would eventually drive her away, and I couldn't have that. It was impossible to imagine my life without her now.

So, I made the best out of the situation. I devoted some extra time for schoolwork, and I made sure to call Alice at least once a day so she wouldn't have to tell on me to Emmett. After a few days, it was as if Bella had never entered my life, only she had, and I missed her every day. Luckily, Alice was too distracted to notice. I thought she was just relieved to see me being pulled out of the depression I'd been buried under a few weeks back. Fortunately, she was too wrapped in her own romance to question the reason for my change.

Now that Jasper and her were an item, she insisted I'd meet him. I agreed reluctantly. I feared she'd suggest we'd double for the occasion. I was astonished when the thing had never crossed her mind. She did act kind of strangely these days. It was almost scary to approach her. I was constantly anxious of saying the wrong thing. When I brewed enough courage to ask what it was about, she said something about her roommate keeping secrets from her. She wasn't telling more, and I didn't want to hear more. It was none of my business. And in a way, I was relieved, but that was out of completely selfish motives. There would be no more ongoing chatter about the snooty opera singer who shared a room with my cousin.

Despite my initial reservations, Jasper turned out to be really nice. And he clearly cared for my cousin, which was a plus. I saw the way he took her hand beneath her table, or whispered things in her ear, or traced his finger along her arm, whenever he thought I wasn't looking. And I'd never seen Alice so sweet and tamed before. It almost shocked me. He could speak about computers all day, but once we steered away from that topic, he was a really interesting person. He knew so much about everything, and even Alice complained at some point that she was feeling left out.

"We should do this again," he said when we parted. He even shook my hand, which I found odd, but I could see Alice was impressed. He was going to walk her back to her place. She all but clung to his side, her hand stuck in the pocket of his coat.

"Sure, we will," I agreed wholeheartedly, now that I knew he was okay.

"Hey, maybe you could come to one of my band's gigs. We play in The Blind Monkey every Friday."

Alice burst into laughter. The sound was high pitched and all silver, a classic Alice laugh. "Edward? In a club? You must be joking. We hardly manage to drag him to the pub with us when we're all home."

"Gee, thanks a lot, Alice," I muttered, running a hand through my hair. It made her laugh harder.

"It's part of your charm, honey," she said. She skipped forward and stood on tiptoes to lay a kiss against my forehead. "Goodnight."

The light on the answering machine was blinking urgent bright red when I walked in the apartment. There were three messages from Emmett, each more impatient than the previous one. He kept sending me texts throughout the evening, from which I studiously ignored. I picked up the phone and dialed the number in the apartment he shared with Rosalie, not caring for time differences. I knew he'd expect this call. I kicked my shoes off as I waited for him to answer. He did, but his voice sounded weird, almost as if…

"Damn it, did I wake you?"

"Wha…? Oh, Edward, it's you. What time is… oh, _shit_!"

I took it as a yes.

"Where have you been, man? I left you like a dozen messages!"

"Yes, I know."

There was a huge yawn on the other end.

"Are you okay, Emmett?"

"Yeah, fell asleep on my books. I think – " There was a sickening popping sound, and a groan – "I might have hurt my neck."

"It's late, why are you still studying?"

"I need to hand in a paper tomorrow and I'm hardly done."

I didn't miss his smirk towards the end. I rolled my eyes. "How much did you manage?"

"Well, umm, the title. Of course. And, uh, introduction."

"The _whole_ introduction?"

"Uh, no," he admitted kind of sheepishly. "I typed the word Introduction, right before I fell asleep."

I snorted. He was in for a long night. "Do you want me to call back tomorrow? Maybe you should – "

"No way, dude, you'll probably just screen me tomorrow. Tell me everything about this guy. Rose will want to hear this too in the morning."

"He's a pretty decent guy, actually. I think he might be taller than you, which makes these two a comedy. But he really cares for her, I think. And Alice is crazy about him."

"So he's okay, right? He's good enough for her? No need for me to come over and smash his face?"

"Umm, no, Emmett, that won't be necessary."

The disappointed huff on the other end was unmistakable. It went without saying that we were both _very_ protective of our cousin.

xoxox

I hadn't seen Bella again until the following Wednesday. She called me the evening before, asking if I wanted to meet her for lunch. She sounded weary, but I didn't want to waste the conversation patronizing her and telling her she needed to get some rest. I was too selfish to get her off the phone. I didn't really want our first meeting in a week to be in a crowded café, so I suggested she'd come to the room where I later had my piano tutorial with Mr. Shapiro.

The music room was the perfect spot to maintain our own private bubble. I got there ten minutes ahead of time, and I couldn't sit still. I just kept pacing back and forth, my lunch forgotten on the piano lid. I charged at the door at every sound of approaching steps, only to be disappointed a moment later when the steps continued down the hall. The sixth sound was wrong, too sharp a sound for Bella's sneakers, and so I ignored it. To my surprise, the second I turned away from the door, it opened. I squinted in the semi-darkness. It really was her. A slow smile curled on my lips as I walked over to her side.

"You're wearing heels." What a stupid, idiotic, foolish statement to make after a week I hadn't seen her.

"Oh," she laughed in surprise, and clicked her shoes against the floor. The sound echoed. "Just my dance shoes. Jazz is next. I didn't want to have to leave early to change," she explained. She had black tights on, and an indigo sweater that fell almost to her knees. I tried to keep my mind away from the black dance outfit I knew was hiding beneath that sweater. This sleeveless black one-piece was soon becoming my favorite. The less I'd think of it, the better. "What?"

I blinked and found her looking at me questionably, all rosy cheeks and gleaming eyes. "N- nothing. You look like you stepped out of _Fame_. All you're missing are leggings and a hair band."

She laughed softly and rolled her eyes. Then she inched closer, her eyes suddenly timid. "I missed you," she whispered.

"That makes two of us, then," I smiled, relieved she wasn't going to mention that horrible slip of mine on our last meeting. I kissed her briefly and led her to my usual spot by the piano.

She'd never heard me play before, apart for the auditions, and I felt like it had to be corrected. After all, I had seen her dance before, so it was only fair. She came to sit beside me, and I played as she ate. I picked something light, a jazz piece I'd attempted during the weekend, although it wasn't really my style. She seemed to enjoy it, and I noticed she tapped her feet on the floor in time with the music.

"Well, I think we might have found a way to make Wednesdays less horrific," she said when I finished the first tune. I watched, transfixed, at the dimples that formed on her cheeks when she smiled. "Aren't you going to eat?" she asked, nodding towards my lunch bag.

"If my playing is enough of a distraction from your awful day, wouldn't you want me to keep playing?" I replied haughtily.

"Not if it means you're going to starve for the rest of the day," she retorted, and flashed me an impish grin. "No one ever told you it was bad to play on an empty stomach?"

I smirked. "I was probably not listening."

"You have good memory," she replied, giggling, and then poked my side. "But you should eat something."

I grinned and played a few notes in reply.

She chuckled. "Impressive, but not distracting enough."

Always up for a challenge, I let my fingers fly against the keys once more, but faster. When I was done, I cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Show off," she muttered, but couldn't hide her grin.

I could tell she was not entirely convinced. I turned to face her, and very gently held her face between my palms. "How's that for a distraction?" I asked lowly, moving an inch closer. She said nothing, but her eyes had this teasing glint. Her hair was down, its tips tickling my wrists. Slowly, I leaned closer and let my lips graze hers.

Someone cleared his throat. Bella pulled back with a gasp. My head snapped up at the sudden interruption. I could feel my cheeks flare beneath his inquiring gaze.

"Oh, it _is_ you, Mr. Cullen," Mr. Shapiro's booming voice was merry. "I thought I was in the wrong class. Wouldn't be a first." We both watched him, slightly flustered, as he casually strolled over to the piano and placed his briefcase on the floor. "Do ignore me. Carry on. I'm not here."

I looked from him to Bella, and saw recognition in her eyes. She'd only heard about him before, but it was fairly easy to guess who he was. By the unmistaken amusement in his eyes, he seemed to know who she was, as well. I felt strangely proud to finally introduce them. I squeezed her hand. She nodded, as if to give me permission. "Sir, this is Bella Swan."

He cocked an eyebrow beneath his glasses and looked her over as we stood up. "The dancer? Your inspiration? Your muse?"

His smile widened just an inch; it was clear he was doing this on purpose. I couldn't believe it was happening. It was worse than introducing her to my parents, worse than introducing her to _Emmett_. I stole a glance at Bella, which was clearly a mistake because she was so beautiful blushing like that.

"She's very pretty." Mr. Shapiro was addressing me, but his eyes were all for her. "I'm pleased to finally meet you, young lady. I began to fear you didn't exist."

She laughed nervously, and the color in her cheeks deepened just a bit. "I heard a lot about you," she said, shaking his hand.

"Oh, I hope not. I'd like to believe you two have much more interesting topics to discuss than me." She laughed again. It was a new, softer sound. Suddenly it was easier for me to picture the younger version of my teacher. The image from his story had come alive. "I hear you're quite fond of the classical arts. You're a ballerina."

"Whatever he told you, he was exaggerating," she replied, shooting a glare at me. I smiled, unabashed.

"I'm sure he wasn't. I'm also sure I'll get to see your many talents myself, in a little while." He actually winked at me. "I might have some good news for you in a few days. I can't promise anything just yet."

"About the spring project?" asked Bella.

Mr. Shapiro nodded. "I said I'd look into it and I did. I expect the school committee's reply by the end of the week." He glanced at my untouched lunch. "If they refuse, I'll tell them it's a matter of life or death. If you spend time here instead of having your lunch, you obviously don't see each other as often as young people like you should." He looked at me thoughtfully. "And you don't quite fit the profile of the starving artist, if you don't mind me saying."

I heard Bella snigger. Surely she thought he would be more successful in convincing me to eat. "I'll leave you to it," she said, and gently squeezed my hand. "I have to go. It was nice meeting you, Sir."

"And you, my dear."

Neither of us spoke as I walked her to the door. I wanted to kiss her goodbye, but I was too aware of his curious eyes on us. I settled on a peck on her cheek, and whispered I'd talk to her later. Then I swallowed my embarrassment and turned back, preparing to endure an hour of innuendoes and sly smiles.

xoxox

To my surprise, on Friday, Mr. Shapiro acted as if Wednesday had never happened. After being properly embarrassed the time before, I came fully prepared only to be slightly puzzled by his indifference. This was why, when he dismissed me at the end of that lesson, his question caught me off guard.

"Mr. Cullen, did you start working on your music for the spring project?"

I let go of the doorknob and turned to face him again. I wasn't aware I was supposed to start working without a partner. Unless…

"Well, I assume the lovely Miss Swan can't start her choreography without your music." He said it casually, but the spark in his eyes made it clear what he was actually telling me.

"We got it? Really?" I asked, heart racing. I couldn't stop the wide grin I could feel curling on my lips.

"Really and truly," he replied. "Now run off so you can tell her."

I wanted to thank him. I wanted to do more than that. I wanted to hug the guy. But it sounded strange, even for me. I stood there, still deliberating, when his expression shifted slightly.

"You're welcome," was all he said. I just grinned in reply and ran off.

xoxox

That evening I took Bella out for dinner. There were too many things worth celebrating. We'd been together for over a month now, and this morning we got the news about the spring project. Bella said the upcoming week was going to be less busy, so it meant I could see her more. Things couldn't get more perfect than that, as far as I was concerned.

I took her to an Italian restaurant that was Emmett and Rosalie's favorite. I'd never been there before, and while Emmett's taste wasn't something to rely on (he would eat practically anything), Rosalie would never frequent a place unless she really liked it. We didn't really get a chance to hit the city yet since we got together. There were so many things I wanted to show her, so many things we could do. Possibilities were endless.

We met halfway between her place and mine. She looked gorgeous. I tried not to gawk at her for too long because I could see it was making her uncomfortable. Something about her looked different, and it took me a moment to realize it was because she was wearing makeup. She laughed when I pointed it out, and said she let Anya experiment on her because she hardly had any makeup at all. I figured Anya had known all about us. It was pretty clear from the way she'd been looking at me during class today, like there was something she was hiding.

"I'm really excited about this project," said Bella, after the waiter had taken our orders and left. "I don't even know where to start, how to – "

"Don't think about it tonight," I cut her off gently. "We'll have enough time to brainstorm ideas."

"I'm looking forward to it. I have some ideas…" she let her voice trail, and laughed nervously when her eyes met mine. "I can get obsessive with this kind of stuff, so feel free to tell me when I get bossy."

"Don't worry about it. It'll be fun." I reached out and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. Her black V-neck sweater made her skin look almost translucent in the candlelight. She had on a long necklace with pink and golden beads that drooped into the cleavage of her sweater. I tried to keep my eyes away from it. Her hair tumbled down her shoulders, looking so soft I was tempted to reached across the table and touch it. The glimmer in her eyes seemed to have lingered there since I'd told her the news about the project hours ago.

"Have you ever thought…" She stopped for a second, as if to rephrase. "If you weren't a pianist, what would you want to be?"

"I've always wanted to be a pianist, so I can't really answer that."

"But if you couldn't," she insisted, and there was certain urgency in her stare. "If there was absolutely no way in the world to do what you most wanted to do. Like, if you went to a normal college. What would be your major?"

"If it was up to my grandfather, it would be med school," I said bitterly, my thoughts wandering back to the previous week. "If it was up to me… I don't know. The Humanities, probably. Maybe philosophy, or history. I'm not great with numbers. What would be yours?"

"Literature." Her reply was instant, as if she'd already come up with a backup plan. "I always thought it could be kind of cool to be a librarian." She shook her head and chuckled. "When I was about twelve, Charlie had this crazy fantasy I'd join the FBI. A cop's dream through and through. He keeps bringing it up every now and then, but I know he's joking."

I smiled. It sounded like something he'd do. "What do your parents think about you being here?"

"They kind of thought it was nothing but a teenager's whim at first. You know, the way every girl wants to be an actress or a model. For me it was ballet. Even though I've been doing this since I was eight, at fifteen they still thought it was a phase. But they slowly learn to understand it's more than that. They're supportive, though. In a way I can be sure that if it doesn't work out, if I won't be this amazing ballerina, my mom will never tell me _I told you so_." She laughed softly. "I'm trying not to think about _that_ option, because I haven't come up with a Plan B yet."

"You can always be that librarian you wanted to be," I pointed out.

"I guess. Although I doubt it'll be as fun as this."

A shadow flickered at the corner of her eyes, threatening to take over her smile. Already it was beginning to dim a bit. It was as if she'd never actually thought Plan B was remotely possible. I could tell how my comment was joining the one from last week. Another brilliant slip with other fatal consequences. Just great. I wasn't good at sidetracking, but I was determined to give it a shot. I just wanted her to smile again. "Why ballet, though?"

"Why do you prefer classical music to contemporary?" she asked, her eyes gleaming in that familiar way again. I sort of saw her point. She shrugged. "I don't know. I started with ballet and it stuck with me. I tried other fields when my teacher recommended it, but I didn't enjoy them as much. I always had this attraction to classics. When my friends read cheesy novels under the desks in junior high, I read _Gone with the Wind_."

There was this thing that bugged me, that had bugged me since that first day I saw her. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"You can ask me anything."

Her smile was warm, and surprisingly not hesitant. I saw it as encouragement. "You don't like being in the center of attention."

"That's not a question," she pointed out, sipping her water. She lowered her glass and watched me attentively, as if waiting for me to continue.

"I guess I'm sort of wondering… how dancing fits into this."

"I'm not dancing for an audience."

"But you will be."

"No. I mean even during a performance, or an audition, or while we're presenting a piece in class. I dance for myself. Ugh, it sounds wrong. I don't dance for the attention and headlines. I don't dance to get compliments. I dance because it's something I enjoy doing. It's something I'm good at." Her expression shifted slightly, and she grinned. "Why, do you think I'm in the wrong profession because the spotlights scare the hell out of me?"

"I think you're amazing in what you do," I replied sincerely. She moved back ever so slightly, and I feared I might have said too much. "You're just different than any performer I've ever known before."

She examined me over the candle in the middle of the table. "I'm not much different than you," she noted quietly, and flashed me a small smile. "Despite your efforts to show off."

As always, her observation was spot on. "I only show off in front of _you_. Most of the time I'm just scared I'm not good enough, that my grandfather was right."

"Maybe you should work on your self esteem, then."

Our waiter was back with our food, and the conversation died out for a while. We tried each other's dishes, and Bella said how – despite the fact my lasagna was pretty good – she could make a better one. It amused me how she could be so confident in one field, yet so insecure in another. Maybe it was because she wasn't aspiring to be the best, as far as cooking went.

As if she had somehow read my mind, she shook her head. "I could use working on _my_ self esteem, actually," she said, chewing thoughtfully. "Do you ever have those days when you fear you'll wake up and forget everything you've ever learned about music?"

"Constantly," I smiled bitterly. "Or when I come up with this really brilliant tune, but by the time I get around to write it down, it's gone."

Her eyes widened, as if with surprise. "I didn't know you wrote your own music."

"No one knows." I faltered. I wanted to tell her, but I didn't know how she would react. This was just the thing I feared of, about our relationship being too intense so soon. I didn't want her to freak out, but I could understand if she did. Then again, I couldn't _not_ tell her. She had a right to know. She owned it. "I wrote something for you."

Her smile was careful now, hesitant. She didn't say anything for a moment. I hoped I didn't mess things up. "Do I get to hear it?"

"That depends," I replied solemnly, allowing myself a moment of smugness now that she hadn't walked away.

"On?"

"What you will be willing to trade for it."

"What I will be willing to trade for it?" she echoed, pretending to be outraged.

I shrugged, playing along. "My music is very personal to me, and you might laugh."

"I'll never laugh!" she tried to keep a straight face, but her voice was cracking with what was obviously a chuckle.

"Either way. I'm only covering my bases here."

She let out the giggle she couldn't hold back anymore, but I could hear the uncertainty just below the surface. Her eyes were careful on mine, as if she couldn't determine if I was serious or not. I was sure she'd be on it in a second and tell me to get lost, but instead, she tilted her head thoughtfully. "Fine. What do I have to do?"

I gaped at her. I wasn't expecting her to take my challenge quite so literally. But she was. When I didn't say anything, she laughed again.

"A lifetime of servitude and all that?"

"Nah, too cliché."

"I'll dismiss you from having to come all the way to Arizona in the spring."

"No, I kind of like the idea of coming to that wedding with you."

She pouted. Clearly, she still hadn't changed her mind about the whole wedding thing. "I'll allow you to tell about us to your parents sooner – well actually scratch that," she added, shuddering. The idea alone seemed to scare her.

"Yeah, definitely not something I'll be willing to trade for," I agreed.

She was silent for a moment, her eyebrows close together, as if she was deep in thought. Then she looked up to meet my eyes, and a slow, sly smile curled on her lips. "I'll give you cooking lessons."

Now _I_ was terrified. Rosalie and Emmett went through hell to get their kitchen redone. Rose was extremely proud of it. She would _kill_ me if I destroyed it. Unless… "How about just cooking me dinner?"

"Hmm."

I wasn't sure why she was deliberating, but I kind of liked the idea, so I thought I'd press her a little further. "My place, next Friday?"

Her grin was wide now. "You're on."

We shook hands in mock formality. There was this tingle of excitement within me. This was going to be fun.

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See that white-green box right here at the bottom of the page? Click it and I'll love you forever... See y'all on Friday… ;)


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Happy **_**New Moon**_** Day, everyone! Here's the next installment… enjoy! Something tells me you will ;)**

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Chapter Nineteen – Bella

The week was progressing in an excruciating pace.

It wasn't because I hadn't seen Edward as often as I'd hoped, because I'd seen him quite a lot, especially now when there was so much to do in preparations of the spring project. It wasn't even because I had a lot to do for school, because I finally seemed to learn how to balance everything without crumpling with exhaustion at the end of each day.

No, it was due to an entirely different reason. I was itching for the week to end because it was only then I'd be able to hear Edward play his music, the tune he had composed with me in mind. His admittance first stunned me into silence. Surely this wasn't for real. It was something people did in the old times, in Austen's time, in drawing rooms of cottages and mansions, not in the twenty first century in New York City. He refused to tell me more until Friday, promised he'd answer all my questions then.

And then there was my side of the deal, of course. I hoped I didn't brag too much about my cooking, so that his expectations wouldn't be that high. I honestly couldn't remember how much I'd said, but I hoped my big mouth didn't get me into too much trouble (which wouldn't be the first time). I was going to make lasagna because this was what he had that evening in that Italian place he'd taken me to. He bought the necessary ingredients off a list I dictated him during lunch on Wednesday. He seemed as eager for the approaching weekend as I had been.

"What are you smiling about?" Alice grunted as we both got ready for the day. I was getting frustrated by her with each passing day, because she was still kind of cold towards me, and I didn't know how to make things better. Plus, I felt so bad about her confining in me in everything that had to do with her and Jasper, whereas I told her nothing. It felt like cheating. I knew it meant I'd have to tell her soon.

Of course, soon did not mean now. "Just glad it's Friday, that's all."

She eyed me through the mirror for a moment, then shrugged and went back to her eyeliner. "Did you get a partner for the spring project yet?"

It would never cease to amaze me, the way she asked all the right questions. "Umm, yeah."

"Anyone interesting?"

"Someone from the music division. I haven't met him yet." The lie came easily, _too_ easily. It made me feel awful.

"_Him_?" Her meaning was loud and clear in her high pitched tone, even with her back to me. "What's his name? I know a few people at the music division."

"I… don't really know. I mean I don't remember."

Luckily, she didn't linger on it. "Well, _my_ partner is awesome. I'm meeting her this afternoon, we're going to have a brilliant routine."

"You're doing modern?"

"Indeed, I am, and she has some excellent ideas. I'm really looking forward to it."

"That's great, Alice."

"When are you going to meet this partner of yours?"

"Today, I think."

"Don't forget to tell me all about it!"

"Sure, sure," I muttered, but as usual, she was already out of the door.

xoxox

If I thought the entire week was slow, Friday was exceptionally unbearable. It didn't help that Edward flashed me those enigmatic grins throughout Mr. Bronson's class. I spent some extra time at the studio after school hoping it would make time go faster, which didn't happen. Then I spent a long time on the phone to Renée, who was gushing about the progress of the preparations for the wedding. I was listening attentively at first as she described her dress in great detail, but when she started talking about flowers, my attention drifted. I began to try out possible outfit combinations in my head. I'd done it throughout the day as a distraction, of course, but I still wasn't sure what I was going to wear this evening. It wasn't a big deal in any way, I knew. Just dinner at Edward's place, dinner _I_ was going to cook. I could go with my old sweats and it wouldn't make a difference.

"Bella? Are you there?"

I blinked. There was silence on the other end; I didn't even realize my mom was asking me something. "Yeah, sorry, Mom."

"I asked if you wanted me to send you pictures of your dress. Anna is a miracle worker, I'm telling you. Even though you're not here, she's done such an amazing job! It's absolutely _gorgeous_, honey, I'm sure you're going to love it!"

"Sure, send it over" I said distractedly, grumbling inwardly at the thought of my stupid, ridiculous, _pink_ dress.

"Charlie said he might come. That's sweet of him, isn't it?"

I wondered if she realized how painful it would be for him if he actually did come over.

"And I thought I'd invite Madame Claudine since she's been with us for so long… is there anyone else you want me to invite, honey?"

"Actually, Mom, I kind of invited someone." I regretted the words as soon as they were out. What the hell I was doing? I didn't even mean to tell her about Edward until I was home!

I could hear the surprise in the silence on the other end. "Is it someone from school?"

"Yeah."

"Your roommate? I'd love to meet her."

"No, Mom, Alice can't make it, unfortunately. It's, umm, someone I'm seeing."

Surprise sounded like astonishment now.

"Mom?"

"Yeah, I'm here." She cleared her throat. "I didn't know you were seeing someone, baby, you haven't said anything. How long has this been going on?"

I closed my eyes, moaning in mortification. This was my own fault. I had it coming. "Not too long."

"Well, who is this guy?"

"Mom, I can't really do this right now…" I glanced around frantically. The few people in the common room didn't mind me.

"Ah, come on! You can't throw things like that at me and expect me not to be curious! Just tell me his name. I promise to interrogate you the next time we talk."

I smirked. I didn't doubt that. She was as unrelenting as Alice. "Edward Cullen. He plays the piano. It's his second year here. That's really all you need to know at this point."

"And he's coming to the wedding?"

"That's the plan, yes."

"Then you two are serious."

"I guess you could say that," I admitted reluctantly, and sort of fretfully. I didn't like the way this conversation was going. "Mom, look, someone here needs the phone, I'd better go."

"Bella, come on! You're going to leave your mother hanging like that? At least tell me if you two have already – "

"_Bye_, Mom!" I cut her off before she could finish the question. I groaned inwardly as I put the phone down. There was just so much I could bear in one conversation.

xoxox

I told Alice I was going out with Anya and some of our friends. She was in a hurry, so I left her a note saying the same thing. I knew she was meeting up with Jasper later and that she'd be too distracted to notice my absence. Besides, this time I was determined to beat her back to our room.

I chose my outfit with care: black tights and a white tanktop with a purple cardigan thrown over it. I borrowed a bit of Alice's lip gloss again, and made a mental note to get some of my own. I smiled at my reflection, made sure my hair looked okay and that the note for Alice was visible before I hurried out.

He opened the door for me with the cutest grin on his lips, looking like a kid who'd done something wrong. It was warm in the apartment, and something smelt nice. When I followed him in, I realized it was from a lavender scented candle he'd lit.

"Nice," I flashed him a grin, nodding towards the candle.

His eyes followed mine, and he grinned back. "Oh. It's Rose's," he said, his smile widening an inch. "I hope she doesn't notice it's gone when she's back." He took my coat and placed it against the back of the sofa. He couldn't hide the tiny gasp that escaped him when he turned to face me again. I was secretly glad I hadn't settled for the old sweats after all.

He looked nice, too. He had blue jeans on, my favorite on him. His V-neck sweater was soft gray, and I could see a glimpse of his white tee shirt underneath. "Shoes off?" he asked me, and only then I noticed his feet were clad in thick dark socks.

I smiled in reply and took my boots off, then left them by the door. I looked over my shoulder when I heard him snigger, and flushed when I realized what he was looking at. My socks matched the color of my sweater, pink hippos on purple background. I guessed he wasn't familiar with that habit of mine just yet.

"I know someone who does that all the time," he assured me as I straightened up. He took my hand and kissed the back of it before he led me to the kitchen.

The ingredients off my list were lined up on the counter, ready for my inspection. I went over the recipe in my head. Everything seemed to be there.

He came to stand behind me as I looked them over, his arms snaking around my waist. "All here?" he whispered, his lips grazing my ear. Too distracted to reply, I just nodded.

His sister-in-law's kitchen was huge, almost twice the size of our kitchen at home. It made Charlie's kitchen look like a dollhouse. Slightly intimidating, but nothing to deter me. It was for a worthy cause, I told myself as I got to work. He helped me out a bit. He sliced and stirred, tasted and commented, all the while telling me his mom used to subject him the same way when he was home. When there was nothing else to do I sent him off to play with his piano, and started on the dishes. He insisted I didn't have to do that, but I needed to keep my hands busy. I felt exceptionally giddy tonight, and I needed something to distract me.

Soon the apartment filled with the familiar aroma of cheeses, tomatoes and spices. I didn't recognize the piece Edward was playing, but it was beautiful, almost as if the sounds just spilt effortlessly from his fingers. I almost regretted I hadn't quit my piano lessons after three (rather miserable) trials.

Edward had set the table before I got there. There was an unlit candle in its center. I smiled to myself as I lit it. I couldn't help but think this was how I imagined living with him would be. It was like playing house. It seemed silly to even think about it. This wasn't exactly a long termed relationship and already I was thinking too far ahead. But for one evening, I thought it was okay to pretend that this amazing apartment was actually ours, that this was just one of many evenings where we'd made dinner together.

I wasn't expecting him to be right there behind me again, so when I felt his arms around me, I dropped the box of matches at once. I groaned at the sight of dozens of small matches now resting on the floor in perfect disarray. "Oh, great."

I was already on my knees, trying to get as many of them as possible, when suddenly he was there. The few matches I'd caught so far dropped back to the ground when his hand cupped my cheek and he brought me closer for a kiss. His lips fluttered against mine, muting my gasp. His fingers were soft and tender on my skin. Just when I recovered myself enough to kiss him back, he began to pull away.

We were at the same eye level, kneeling there on the floor. I smiled at him, a little breathless. "What was that for?"

"Just my way of thanking you for dinner," he replied just when the oven's bell went off. The sound startled both of us. We were still chuckling when he helped me off the floor.

My lasagna was mostly my Grandma Marie's recipe with the addition of some personal improvements. Charlie was its number one fan, and Billy and Jacob soon joined him. At the end of each summer, they'd demanded I'd make it for them, so they'd have something to remember me by. Edward, on the other hand, didn't say anything for the first few bites. I watched his face carefully from above my plate, but it gave nothing away. He'd told me his mom was this amazing cook. I hadn't thought much of it earlier, but now I began to panic. Maybe my recipe didn't top the level of sophistication he'd been used to.

"Well, are you going to tell me what you think or am I supposed to guess?" I asked eventually. I didn't mean to. If he hadn't liked it, I didn't want to know. But at the same time, I did. Suspense was killing me.

"It's just…" he started, putting his fork down. His face was blank, nearly expressionless. "I don't want you to get mad at me for what I'm going to say."

So he didn't like it, then. I struggled not to let disappointment show. "I'll get over it."

He seemed unable to hide his grin. "Now I'll have to introduce you to my parents this summer," he said, and for a moment I couldn't see how it had to do with anything. "This one tops my mother's secret recipe, which is nearly impossible to do. No, I take it back, it _is_ impossible to do. Believe me, people _tried_. Even my brother will fall for you for this one."

I could feel the blush creeping onto my face, deepening when I made the mistake of meeting his eyes. "So that means I passed, right? Am I worthy of your music now?"

A shadow of a smile crossed his lips. "A little impatient, aren't we?"

"I want to hear it," I shrugged.

"You will," he promised, and shook his head. "So how was the rest of your day?"

I snorted. Clearly, he was trying to sidetrack me. I frowned, but answered his question. "My mom knows you're coming to the wedding."

He tried to conceal a grin again. "That's not fair, how come you get to tell your mother about me before I get to tell mine about you?"

"I didn't mean to tell her," I whined. "I'm not sure why I did. She said my dad was coming to the wedding and asked me about people I wanted to invite, so I sort of let it slip I was inviting someone that wasn't my roommate."

"We can call it off if it makes you feel better. I won't be upset."

"No," I said quickly. "I still want you to come. I just wish I haven't told her two months before the wedding, that's all. That's enough time to interrogate me mercilessly. By April she'll know everything about you." I wasn't even kidding. I knew what she'd been capable of. The thought alone made me shudder.

"Maybe she'll be too busy, she'll forget."

"Oh, no. Not my mom. Paying bills is something she forgets, quite easily. But not interrogating her daughter about someone she's dating."

"How's your dress like?" Sidetracking again.

"Pink," I grumbled.

"Pink is bad?" he guessed. I didn't like the fact he still looked amused behind that look of sympathy.

"I don't do pink. But it's a spring wedding and apparently my dress matches my mom's flowers, probably the napkins too." I rolled my eyes, but he cut me off before I could continue.

"As someone who matches her socks to her outfits, you really shouldn't be complaining."

"Hey, I thought you were supposed to be on _my_ side," I pouted.

"I am. I'm just pointing out mere facts," he laughed. "Besides, I'm sure you'll look beautiful."

"You're not at all biased, are you?" He shrugged. I huffed. "She said she'd send me pictures of it. If she remembers, you can see it for yourself."

"The bottom line is, am I allowed to tell my mother about you now?"

"Just your mother?" I checked.

"I can't guarantee it won't be passed on to my father… my brother, probably his wife…"

"Then maybe we'd better wait with telling your family," I cut him off hastily before his list would get longer. Already it was longer than I could endure. I still kind of hoped I could keep him forever without telling the rest of the world. It felt as if some serenity would be erupted as soon as we let the outside world in. While inevitable, I hoped to stall it for as long as I possibly could.

When the kitchen was clean and the dishes were done, Edward took my hand and led me across the room, to where the piano was standing. I took my place beside him; it was almost routine by now. He made a whole show of stretching his fingers and placing them on the keys incredibly slowly. I giggled nervously. I knew he was doing it on purpose, and I meant to protest when his fingers actually hit the keys this time.

I knew this tune, so it couldn't have been the one he'd composed. This one sounded like… no, this one _was_ the one I danced to in my audition. I gasped and looked up at him. He sent a sideways glance in my direction, as if he'd been waiting for that sign of recognition. When he found it he grinned and turned his attention back to the music. There was something almost smug in his smile.

When the sounds of this piece drifted to be picked up by another familiar tune, I kept my mouth shut. He looked slightly nervous, and I didn't want to hurry him on. Music _was_ a personal thing. I knew how giddy _I_ was getting when I knew I had an audience. It would be unfair to rush him. And if he changed his mind, if he wasn't going to play it for me tonight, I wouldn't resent him. I just had to work a bit to keep dismay out of my expression.

"I thought," his voice, while soft and quiet, startled me. I blinked, realizing that the music had ceased. The silence in the room was almost wrong. A siren went off outside, erupting it suddenly. He turned all the way now, so his eyes were boring into mine. "I thought that since we don't have music for our project, we could maybe use this one… if you want."

And then, with no warning, there it was. The most magical melody I'd ever heard. It was so many things at once, and the best I could come up with were contradictions: blissful and tragic, meek and sophisticated, bitter and sweet. At some point I stopped trying to make sense of it or define it, and just looked at him. I knew this was how I must look like while I was dancing. It was as if he wasn't aware of nothing else but the keys beneath his fingers, and the music. I stared at his fingers, long and lean and confident against the keys. As I watched him, I thought of his stammered request from a few moments ago. I saw myself dancing to it. In my head I'd already matched notes with steps. A routine was wearing a tangible shape right in front of my eyes. It would be _our_ tune. It would have so much more meaning that way.

The final sounds resonated around us as the music slowly drifted to a close. I was so overwhelmed that it was impossible to form a thought, not to mention words. We just sat there in silence for a moment. Then, slowly, he turned to face me. His eyes were searching mine anxiously, and I realized he misplaced speechlessness for dislike. His insecurity was so absurd sometimes. I wanted to chuckle and ruffle his hair and tell him how silly he'd been acting, but I feared he would misunderstand that too. Instead, I slid closer to him and wrapped my arms around his neck. His eyes were still intent on mine; our noses were nearly touching. "This is beautiful," I whispered.

"_You_ are beautiful," he corrected, before he leaned over to kiss me.

There was a different edge to this kiss, different want attached to it. His lips brushed mine almost fiercely, and I responded immediately, giving everything I'd had into it as I'd always done. Somehow, even that didn't feel like enough. There was an intensity that had never been there before. I could feel the passion building, as sudden and unexpected as a tidal wave, but I didn't stop to question it. He tried to lower me back, but the bench we were sitting on was short and there was nothing behind me. As flexible as my dancer body had been, leaning backwards against thin air was kind of uncomfortable. I pulled away from him, giggling breathlessly, and as if he got the hint, he brought us to a standing position, somehow with his lips already back on mine.

A few keys squeaked as he shoved me against the piano in a motion that was both rough and gentle. I could feel them push into my lower back. I grabbed the front of his sweater and steered us further away from there. I didn't think his brother would appreciate us ruining his wife's piano. I only stopped when my back made contact with a smoother surface; I felt him grin against my lips.

His fingers threaded in my hair and I threw my head back, forcing our lips apart. His lips trailed along my exposed neck, lingered on my jaw, and finally settled right below my earlobe. I closed my eyes when he began to massage my scalp in small, circular motions that sent chills down my spine. I arched my back further back, and suddenly his hands froze and his lips left my skin. A whimper of protest escaped me. I opened my eyes, extremely disoriented, to meet his chuckling face. "Takes only a dancer, huh?"

"This isn't really the time to appreciate my abilities, Mr. Cullen," I mock reproached him, still kind of breathless. "Any other guy would feel lucky." I grinned, straightening up slowly. "Besides," I pressed my body against his and held myself on tiptoes so that my lips would graze his ear. I heard his sharp intake of breath at the friction of my body stretching along his. "You haven't seen half the things this body can do." He gulped. My grin got an inch wider when his cheeks colored. I tugged at the front of his sweater, forcing him out of it. "Now get back here."

I didn't need further persuasions when his lips collided against mine.

It was my turn to smile against his lips, to revel at my victory. It was like watching myself from outside my body. I'd barely recognized this girl who took control and said all those sassy things, this girl who made men blush and bid her every command. I'd never been one for boldness. What was this guy doing to me? How could he bring out that side of me so effortlessly?

We were still kissing when he lifted me onto the piano's top. I was so absorbed in the sensation of his lips against mine that I didn't realize he'd done it until suddenly I had to bend to reach him. I tried to giggle, but the sound came out muffled. I ruffled his hair instead; he kissed me harder as if in response. I let my fingers graze his shoulder blades and back, along his spine. I felt a shudder go through him before he pressed me tighter against him. I wrapped my legs around his middle to help. He pulled away from me and groaned my name in my ear.

With my legs still wrapped around him, I let my toes graze his lower back, trying to imitate the earlier motions of his fingers in my hair. This time he moaned and buried his face in my neck. I gripped his hair as his lips trailed a hot path from my collarbone to my jaw, my cheekbone, my temple, beneath my ear, anywhere but my lips. I needed him to kiss me again, and he seemed well aware of it when he kept a slow, teasing, torturing rhythm. I huffed impatiently.

He glanced at me, his lips moist and swollen. He smiled at me pleasantly. "Is there a problem?"

"_Yes_, several," I said, pretending to sulk, but it was difficult to even pretend to be mad at him with the way he was smiling at me. I just sat there for a second, trying to steady my shaky breath. I didn't realize how stifling hot the room had suddenly felt until then.

He ran a finger down my cheek, letting it linger against my lips. "Still waiting."

"You're wearing too many clothes," I pointed out, gasping when his lips hit my pulse point again.

"So are you," he murmured, smiling against my skin. "Is that all?"

I shifted slightly, forcing his lips away. His eyes followed mine with what seemed like puzzlement. "Right here," I whispered a reminder before I captured his lips with mine again. I threw myself into the kiss entirely, challenging him to dare and pull away from me again. Even five minutes away from this felt like eternity. It was the worst kind of addiction, but at the same time, the best kind.

His fingers slid from my hair to my throat, brushed over the thin straps of my tanktop, and slipped right below my cardigan. I could feel him peeling it off my shoulders. I shrugged out of it, and heard it land softly on the floor. I fiddled with the hem of his sweater, and pushed it up blindly. We broke the kiss so I could pull it over his head, sweater and tee shirt in one go, but soon I pulled him back to me, letting my hands roam across his bare chest. My fingers moved forward eagerly, greedily. His skin was warm beneath my palms as I felt my way down his chest. He hissed as my fingered traced the thin line of hair that trailed from his naval down his stomach, stopping abruptly where his jeans hung low on his waist. I circled the top button and flashed him a devilish grin, but before I could yank it open like I'd intended to, he lay me back.

His eyes were smoldering, burning dark green. His stare was a mixture of too many things at once: lust, need, fear, desire, want. He traced his fingers down my arms, sending goosebumps all over my heated skin. He brought a hand to my collarbone and slipped it from my throat to my stomach in one swift motion that took my breath away. Desire rippled through me as my body arched up at his touch. My skin was on fire. The rest of my clothes clung to me uncomfortably now. I didn't mind if he ripped them apart as long as he took them off me. I wanted – no, I _needed_ – to feel more of him.

"Bedroom," I rasped, too far gone to compose a truly intelligible sentence. Luckily, I didn't have to. I locked my legs around his waist as he lifted us off the piano lid and carried me down the dark hallway, still kissing me fervently.

And then there was nothing but him and me, a tangle of arms and legs and heated kisses, and the moonlight with its silvery glow as our only witness.


	20. Chapter 20

**a warning, just to be on the safe side, guidelines-wise: the first part of this chapter is rated mild R, proceed with caution :)**

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Chapter Twenty – Edward

I wasn't really sure what woke me up. It was a typical February morning, so the sun wasn't even up to sting my eyelids. Exhaustion was overwhelming; my entire body ached with it. I'd never been so tired in my life. My eyelids were heavy, all but glued to place. I wasn't exceptionally cold – on the contrary. Despite the rain I could hear pounding against the windows, it was warm in my bed, and I snuggled closer to the source of it. It scooted closer to me in response. There was no reason for me to wake up now, but from some reason, I did.

A pallid shoulder was the first thing my eyes met, then a mass of tangled brown hair. I pressed my nose into her hair, letting its scent overpower me. I had one arm draped over her waist. Our hands were intertwined, as were our legs. I could feel her feet tucked between my own. I shifted ever so slightly just to feel her pressing her back against my chest again. I smiled sleepily. My lids were drooping again. Yes, there was absolutely no reason to wake up just yet.

When I next resurfaced, dim light was coming through the windows. The rain seemed to have ceased by now. I opened my eyes slowly, just to make sure she was still there, that I wasn't dreaming the first time around. But she _was_ there. Her body was warm, still pressed against mine. Her breathing was soft, soothing. Her hand was still in mine. I tightened my grasp just a bit, brushing my fingers against her skin. It felt real. It didn't mean anything, though, not necessarily. Maybe I wasn't awake yet. Maybe this had all been a dream. There was no way I'd deserved her. There was no way I was so lucky to have her spend the night here.

Last night was a magical blur of kisses and soft caresses, of passion and tenderness. I remembered being anxious about hurting her. We fit together perfectly, like two pieces out of the same puzzle. I took my time exploring her body. I wanted to discover every scar, every freckle, every birth mark. I wanted to know what made her squirm or quiver or grab the sheets. I wanted to know what made her giggle or cry out or whimper. I wanted to learn the way she reacted to my fingers, my tongue, my lips. Everything was so new, but at the same time so effortless. Instinctive, like playing my piano. But for this one night, her body was my instrument.

Things were so amazingly lucid this morning. It all made sense. And I didn't care we hadn't been together for long. A part of me had been in love with her since the day I'd seen her in Emmett's wedding. The rest of me seemed to be catching up quickly. There was nothing else I wanted, no one else I wanted.

Slowly, gently, I untangled my fingers from hers and traced my thumb along her hairline. "I love you."

The whisper echoed strangely in the silent room. For the first time, the words sounded sincere and not forced. For the first time, I didn't feel guilty for saying them. There was a certain relief in them, actually. I did love her. I'd loved her for years. This admittance felt like the final missing piece of the puzzle.

She shifted beside me. My body went rigid, and I could feel myself grow pale with horror. She was supposed to be asleep! I braced myself for the inevitable. Surely _that_ would scare her off, if nothing else had so far. She would never forgive me for that. She would never come back here again. She would be out of this bed, out of the apartment, so fast I wouldn't have a chance to blink.

But instead of shying away, she cuddled closer.

"I love you, too," she murmured. She sounded groggy, but definitely awake. Her hand slid along the sheets, as if searching for my hand. Still flustered, I placed my hand back in hers. She gave my hand a little squeeze before she turned, just enough for her to face me. Her eyes, still fogged with sleep, lit up. "Hi."

"Hey." My reply was distracted. My mind was everywhere. I was sure I hadn't detected anger in her expression. But maybe she didn't want to hurt my feelings. Was I supposed to apologize anyway?

I snapped out of my frenzy as soon as her finger touched my bottom lips. Her eyes were anxious. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I assured her, kissing her finger. I propped myself on one elbow so I could look down at her. Her face gave nothing away, apart for the concern in her gaze. It didn't mean anything. She could still be mad. Maybe she wasn't one to wear her heart on her sleeve – in some cases, at least. I hated the necessity of questioning it, of facing reality, but I didn't have a choice. I wouldn't be able to put it off for long anyway, so I might as well get it over with. "You… okay?"

There was a flash of uncertainty in her stare, as if the question puzzled her. But soon enough it was gone. "I'm perfect," she replied, slightly more awake now.

It was the honest true, that much was clear. But I still didn't have the slightest idea what to do now. I couldn't just… ignore the facts the words had been said. I didn't want to ignore that. If what she said was true… it would bring our relationship onto a whole new level. And still… was my confession too soon? I searched my words carefully. "You weren't supposed to hear that."

She obviously knew what I meant, although I didn't specify. She didn't seem hurt. There was this familiar spark in her eyes now. "Are you going to take it back, then?"

I felt my lips curl into a smile. For a moment, it felt ridiculous to be scared. "No, I don't think I will."

"Good, because I don't want you to."

I bent to kiss her, when I realized something was wrong. I sniggered as soon as I realized what it was. "Bella, will you please remove that blanket from your mouth?"

She shook her head, frowning. "Morning breath."

I shrugged in mock indifference. "Fine. I'll kiss you through it." I didn't give her a chance to reply before I pressed my lips to the fabric over her lips. I heard her muffled giggle as she pretended to struggle, but then I felt the blanket being pulled away as my lips crushed against hers. Yes, last night had definitely not been a dream. "Much… better…" I murmured, kissing her harder.

This kiss was different than any of the ones from the previous night, sweet and lingering rather than passionate and frenzied, an aftermath. Her small hands came between us as she slowly wrapped them around my neck, trying to pull me on top of her. I smiled as I eased onto her, guiding myself inside her again. We set up a slow pace, as lazy as our kiss. The way our bodies responded to one another was amazing; it was almost as if they'd been attuned to one another. They spoke their own secret language. Daylight made all the difference in the world. I'd never seen her eyes so dark before. I murmured her name before I exploded. Through the ripples of pleasure and release, I could hear my name escaping her lips as she followed me there.

It seemed forever had passed before I was recovered enough to even open my eyes. She was still trembling beneath me, and even though I must have been crushing her, she didn't protest. I looked up to meet her eyes. Her gaze was disoriented, her cheeks slightly flushed. Her breathing was strained, hot against my skin. She whimpered a protest when I pulled out of her. I kissed her nose, smiling down at her. I had no intention to go anywhere. I let my lips wander across her forehead, her temple, her jaw. I trailed them closer to her ear. "Gee, Bella, if I knew I would get _that_ lucky, I would have played for you days ago."

Honestly it sounded like something Emmett would have said – and meant it – and for a moment I feared she'd take it seriously. I held my breath for her response. She giggled, and I pressed my lips to her neck in relief. Her pulse was running wild. "I sort of expected _Gee, Bella, what did you put in that lasagna?_"

I let out a throaty laugh. "It's true that four hundred years ago in England you could have been charged with witchcraft, but if you did slip something into that lasagna, I promise I wouldn't have minded."

Laughing softly, she wrapped her arms around me when I rested my head against her heaving chest. I lay there, listening to the silence. The city noises ceased to exist this morning. I heard nothing but the erratic rhythm of her heart, beating in synch with my own. I felt nothing except for the way her fingers threaded in my hair.

"What time is it?"

"I don't know." I didn't care.

"My roommate is going to kill me," she groaned.

"I'll come back with you to explain."

"Is _this_ how you planned to go public?" There was laughter in her voice.

"No. But I can't allow you getting killed over spending the night here. I was sort of counting on you coming back."

"That's sweet, but I think I'd better handle her alone before she meets you. I had it coming, really. I've been stalling for weeks." She laughed softly. "I really don't feel like getting up now, though."

"Well, I don't feel like letting you get up, so we're good."

My stomach growled, making both of us laugh.

"So much for staying in bed," she said, her fingers straying from my hair to my back, leaving a trail of goosebumps wherever they went. "Do you want me to start on breakfast?"

I pulled away from her reluctantly, and supported my weight with my elbow so I could hover above her again. "I want you to stay where you are and go back to sleep. I'll wake you up when breakfast is ready."

She cocked an eyebrow, skepticism reflecting in her stare. "Are you sure you can handle breakfast?"

I just smiled, and went out of bed. I could handle anything today.

xoxox

Emmett and Rosalie's bedroom had an adjoining bathroom, but I used the one down the hall so she could go back to sleep uninterrupted. I took a quick shower and pulled on a clean pair of boxers and a white tee shirt. When I stepped back into the hall on my way to the kitchen, I could hear the rustle of sheets and blankets, so I knew it meant she did as I'd asked. She liked my pancakes that other time, so I was going to attempt those again. I hoped I still had that recipe someplace around the kitchen, because I didn't want to call my mother just now.

I did a quick survey of the living room. It looked intact, which was a relief. Some of our clothes were still by the piano where we'd left them the night before. I went over to pick them up, folding them hastily before I placed them on top of the piano. I let my fingers linger against the fabric of her purple cardigan. I smiled to myself. Her skin felt so much softer in comparison.

It wasn't as late as I thought. The digital clock on the microwave said 10:34. I'd never slept in beyond 8 or so, but it was Saturday, and I didn't have to be anywhere anyway. I did worry about Bella, though. She seemed really bothered about getting her roommate worried. I wanted to go back to the bedroom and tell her she could give her roommate a call if she wanted, but then decided against it. She'd better just sleep. She could make that call later.

I knew there was no stalling it anymore. We'd have to tell someone about this soon. The thought came with certain reluctance, but I knew it was inevitable. I wondered how I was going to do this. Even if I swore my mother to secrecy, there was no way she wouldn't tell my father, and that meant Emmett would somehow find it all out. And I could anticipate _his_ reaction. He'd freak out. I shuddered at the thought of his endless innuendoes. Yes, Emmett would definitely be the hardest to handle with.

But funnily enough, now with those love declaration out in the open, I wanted to tell someone. I was too happy to keep it contained. I needed someone to know about this. My first thought was Alice, although there was a good chance she'd be just as bad as Emmett, but I knew she _would_ be happy for me. I scanned the living room again. I couldn't remember where I'd left my phone the other night, but it was nowhere within my field of vision. I could call her after I started on that breakfast, I thought.

I started a fresh pot of coffee and found everything I needed for pancakes and scrambled eggs, because even I couldn't go wrong with those. I managed to break one egg into a bawl when a knock came on the door. It was more than a knock. It was almost as if someone from the other side was trying to bring the door down… by hammering against it.

"Alice?"

I stared at my cousin who charged into the apartment as soon as I got the door opened. I wanted to chuckle at the coincidence, but then I realized how bad it was to have her there. It was one thing breaking this to her on the phone, but an entirely different thing to have her here, a step away from discovering the secret I'd been struggling to hide from her for so long. Yes, I wanted to tell her about Bella, but I didn't mean to introduce them so soon.

But my frantic alarm didn't last long as my eyes zeroed in on her face. She looked like hell. Still out of breath since she'd probably run all the way here, she was wearing her pajama top beneath her unbuttoned coat. Her hair looked as if she'd combed it with her fingers. Her eyes were wide with fright. Panic was sharp and instant. Something happened at home. An accident. She came to break the news to me. Who was it, my parents, Emmett, Sophie…?

"Alice, what's the matter? Are you okay? Are you hurt?" I placed my hands on her shoulders. I was horrified to realize she was shaking. She looked as if she was going into shock. It was worse than I thought, then. More than an accident. Did someone die? "Alice, talk to me, what is it?"

She closed her eyes, and I could see she was struggling to keep her breathing even. I slowly let go of her shoulders, to give her time. I waited for her to come around, my heart racing with fear.

Finally, her eyes fluttered open again, and she spoke. "My roommate… she…" Her voice trailed off again, as if she couldn't bring herself to continue. It was selfish, but I couldn't help the relief that surged through me. It had nothing to do with our family then. Everyone was okay.

But Alice wasn't. She just… stood there, hardly holding herself together. I'd never seen her so helpless before.

Carefully, so I wouldn't startle her, I moved closer, and placed a hand on her back. "Alice, come on, let's sit down. Do you want some water?"

"No," she shook my hands away, and remained standing. She took another deep breath, but this time she looked up at me. "My roommate didn't come back last night," she whispered. I didn't think she was aware of the way her voice was breaking. "I haven't seen her since yesterday afternoon. I must have missed her because our schedules are so different on Friday. She left me a note saying she was going out with some friends. I went out to hear Jasper play, and I came back before she did. I didn't think much of it; I thought she was just running a bit late. It's not like her, but it wouldn't be the first time. But when I woke up this morning, her bed was still made."

The dread and fear in her expression suddenly shifted into slight confusion. "You just woke up?"

The change was so instant that her question caught me off guard. "Umm, yeah."

Her forehead creased. "Since when do you sleep in?"

"I, umm, didn't get much sleep the other night." God, I hoped I wasn't blushing.

Luckily, she didn't care much for my reply. She was deep in despair again, as she heaved a sigh. "Edward, what am I going to do? I didn't report her, although I clearly should have. It's not the first time she disappears, but it's the first time she's been gone for the entire night! I'm just so worried about her! I'm scared to ask around because if someone else finds out she's missing, _they_ might report her, and there will be questions why _I_ haven't done it!"

"Hey, relax, Alice, it will be okay!"

There was unusual moisture around her eyes… tears? I pulled at her arm and led her to the kitchen counter. I waited until she took a seat and then sat beside her. "It's just…" she said, looking at me again. There was new urgency in her stare. She deliberated, and then shook her head. "Look, Edward, I wasn't completely honest with you about my roommate," she confessed, and looked down with what seemed like guilt. "I know I should have said something before, but I thought… I hoped… I'd be able to… you're so damn _stubborn_!" she exclaimed all of a sudden, and smacked my arm. Her eyes flared with anger, but it soon melted back into distress. "And now she's missing and I just… I'm so worried."

"Alice, you need to slow down, Munchkin. I can't understand half the things you're saying." Or why she smacked me, for that matter, as if it was somehow all my fault.

When she next looked at me, her gaze was earnest. "I need to tell you the truth about my roommate," she whispered.

She wasn't making any sense, but I didn't think it would be right to question her just now.

"You have to promise you'll forgive me. For not telling you before, for trying… I didn't mean to interfere, but I only wanted to… you must know I did it for you, because I wanted you to be happy, I wanted – "

She was crying openly now. I reached out for her. "Alice – "

She smacked my hand away and wiped her own tears angrily. She struggled to look at me. "The truth is that you know her."

Was she high, or delirious, or just insanely worried? "What are you talking about? I've never met your roommate in my life."

"_Yes_, you have, only you don't unders…" Her voice trailed off as her eyes focused on something across the room. "Is there someone here?"

I let my eyes follow hers. Bella's coat was still against the back of the sofa. Her boots and bag were still by the door where she'd left them the evening before. Damn it. I kept my eyes on the coat, stalling. Just minutes ago, I planned on telling Alice everything, but right now, I didn't know how the hell was going to do it. My mind was coming up empty on explanations.

I knew that keeping silence wasn't a brilliant move either, but it was too late to do anything. Alice squealed through her tears, an action only she seemed able to manage. "Edward Cullen, you're hiding a _girl_ here, aren't you?" she accused me. It was strange to see her grinning when there were still tears sparkling at the corners of her eyes. Her eyes were back on me now, and I could imagine what she saw: my mess of a hair, the fact I was hardly dressed, the anxiety at being caught. Blush crept on my cheeks, and I could tell she noticed that, too. Her grin widened. "Is that why you slept in? Or haven't slept at all, if my suspicions are correct – "

"Shut up, Alice," I mumbled, properly embarrassed now. She had Emmett on speed dial, and I knew she was going to use it as soon as she walked out of this door. But, since I was doomed as it was, it seemed absurd to just brush her off with an excuse. The evidence was there, and it was a matter of time before her eyes would spot the clothes I'd previously left on the piano. I needed to give them _something_. "You'll scare her away."

"I _knew_ it!" she squealed again. "Well, where is she? I want to meet her!"

I cringed. "Unless you woke her up with your screaming, she's still asleep."

"Wore her out, didn't you?" she asked, winking. "Oh, Emmett will be so proud of you."

My cheeks were flaring. This was so humiliating. But I had to focus. Distraction was my most powerful ally just now. "Umm, Alice? Is it really necessary to do it now? You started telling me about your roommate…?"

Her features darkened again at my reminder. "Wait, tell me something first," she pleaded. "This girl. Is it serious?"

I closed my eyes, then opened them. So much for our bubble, I thought bitterly. "Yes, it's pretty serious."

"You didn't tell me." It wasn't an accusation, just stating the facts.

"We didn't tell anyone. It was kind of new, and…"

She shook her head sadly. "Then whatever I have to tell you won't make a difference."

"You can't know that, Alice. I still don't know what you have to tell me because you haven't actually _said_ anything yet."

"Edward, I came here because I was hoping you could help me. I think she might be in trouble, and I was hoping you would want to help her, once you knew who she was, because I know how much you cared about her."

She was talking in riddles again, and I meant to point it out.

Fate had other plans for me.

"Edward?"

Shit. I saw Alice freeze at the unfamiliar sound, coming from the hallway. Distress turned into curiosity, and then into complete astonishment when Bella stepped into the living room.

She was wearing Emmett's New York Yankees tee shirt and it fell to her knees. Instead of her own funny purple socks, she was wearing a dark pair I recognized as my own. She just ran her hand through her hair, but it froze in place now when she noticed our unexpected visitor. She didn't blush like I'd expected her to. She went pale. She looked paler than Alice. She staggered slightly, but caught herself on time. She lowered her hand slowly, keeping her eyes on Alice the entire time. Her eyes reflected horror, and embarrassment…

And recognition.

Well, so much for secrecy. Now I had no choice but introducing them. I was about to walk over to her and say something, but something in Alice's face stopped me.

She didn't take her eyes off Bella, in a look that could only be described as a glare. Her lips were frozen in a silent gasp as she took in the sight of her. I knew I should have said something, anything, but I was too transfixed by Alice's reaction. It made no sense to me, and my mind was determined to process it before anything else.

"Alice."

It was this single word which made me tear my gaze from Alice. My head snapped up towards Bella again. She paid no attention to me. If she had, she'd find shock, confusion, bewilderment in my expression, as one single question unleashed itself in my mind.

How the hell did she know my cousin's name?


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty One – Bella**

It was the first time I'd seen Alice speechless. Her astonished gaze wandered from me to Edward and back to me again. I could see she was missing nothing: not his disheveled hair or the fact I was wearing very little. Given the evidence, it wasn't difficult to put two and two together. I couldn't make sense of her expression. Fury was there, and I'd expected it, but there was something else, something bigger than confusion, something I couldn't quite comprehend.

"Alice?" I asked again, because she didn't respond the first time around. But even the simplest question came out in a blur. I was too flustered about her finding out that way. She wasn't stupid. She'd obviously put figured it out by now. "What are you – how did you know where to – did Anya tell you where I was?"

"I didn't know you'd be here."

"Then what are you…" My query was cut short as the meaning of her statement slowly sank in. My eyes flickered from her to him. Edward was motionless. He just… stood there, staring at her in what could only be explained as disbelief. The strangest feeling was crawling under my skin, impossible to shake off. Something was very wrong here. "What's going on?" I hated the quiver in my voice.

Alice didn't mind me now. Her eyes were all for him. "Is that her? The girl you wouldn't tell me about?" There was the tiniest note of accusation in her voice. Then she looked at me. "Is this why you've been acting so strange lately, why you came back so late that other night?" I nodded. There was no point to deny anything now. "How long has this been going on?"

"Alice, please – "

"_How long_?" she cut me off, her eyes flaring.

Edward beat me to the answer. "Since after Christmas break."

She stared at him as the new information sank in. There was a pause, and then she exploded. "I can't believe that all this time… the two of you… behind my back? Do you realize what have you done? How could you possibly keep this away from me?"

She was speaking about both of us, but she was clearly addressing him. He stood there with his head bowed and his eyes on the carpet, like a reproached schoolboy, as she kept bombing him with accusations and rhetorical questions. I stared at the two of them as my mind struggled to grasp what was going on. There was something I was missing. Although I'd never heard him mention her name, Alice was no stranger to Edward, not by the way he looked at her, or the way she addressed him. He _must_ have known her, I reminded myself, or she wouldn't be here, because she said she didn't come here intentionally looking for me. But that made little sense as well. How would she know him? She had never mentioned… unless…

Unless I had misplaced jealousy for accusation earlier.

That was it, then. It made perfect sense. Somehow, I'd missed what had been right under of my nose. I'd been too wrapped up after him to realize he'd never been mine after all. I didn't care for the bits that didn't match, like how Alice had never said anything about seeing him, or the fact she seemed head over heels in love with Jasper, the fact that Edward had just told me he loved me less than an hour ago, or the vivid memory of last night, that so far had provided me with all the confirmation I needed as for how he felt for me. Those minor contradictions seemed meaningless comparing with the bigger truth.

Humiliation hit me hard, like a blow to my stomach. I nearly doubled over with its force. My knees began to give way again, like they did earlier when I first noticed Alice there. My hands clenched into fists on my sides as I struggled to get myself together.

Suddenly it all seemed so clear. Of course he'd have someone else. How could I allude myself that way? It had never made sense for him to love me in the first place. I was naïve and stupid and blind. I let him dazzle me with words and kisses and empty promises. I fell for all of it, I fell for _him_, like I'd never had in my life. I trusted him completely. This trust was quickly crumpling as the memory of last night shifted from confirmation to admonition. No more than an hour ago I was reluctant to leave him. Now there was nothing I wanted more than putting my clothes back on and getting the hell out of here.

But before I could take one step back, Alice's eyes were back on mine again as she let out a laugh. The sound was bitter. "I can't believe this."

"Alice, I can explain everything…" I faltered, horrified with myself. Why was _I_ apologizing?

"Wait, do you know each other?" I sort of expected him to figure out the answer himself by now, but he seemed as if he'd been snapped out of some trance, as if this truth had only just dawned on him.

I couldn't decode the shadow that crossed Alice's expression. She looked almost… scared to face him. She seemed to have difficulty to meet his eyes, and she deliberated before replying. "Bella is my roommate." It sounded like she was admitting some horrible crime.

"Bella is _what_?" His eyes darted between the two of us. My own confusion was reflected in his stare. "But you said there was a French opera s – "

I stood there staring at them, at loss again. They weren't making any sense. _Nothing_ of this was making any sense. This was not a lovers' quarrel, not a predictable one, anyway. But I didn't want to stay until it got there. I couldn't watch. I couldn't stay there.

I turned the way I'd come, and hurried into the bedroom.

I heard him calling after me. I shut the door and leaned against it, releasing a shaky breath. I needed to get myself together, get dressed and leave. I'd have enough time to fall apart later, in the safety of my own room.

A soft knock came on the door, making me jump away from it with a start. "Bella?"

My name, always a caress through his lips, sounded almost poisonous now. I closed my eyes tightly, refusing to let the sweetness of his voice have any affect on me. I wasn't going to make that mistake again. I could feel the moisture around my eyes now, the familiar tightness down my throat. I wouldn't cry. Not yet. I moved about the room, keeping myself busy with finding my clothes.

"Bella, please let me in." He didn't try to jiggle the doorknob, as if he knew the door was unlocked. He didn't try to barge in.

"No," I murmured, slipping my tanktop on. I doubted if he could even hear me. I knew my sweater was still out there, as were my coat and shoes. I didn't look back at the bed when I left the room.

He was still in the hallway when I stepped out. I walked passed him and down the hall. He caught up with me, and held me by the wrist. I shoved his hand away and ignored his pleading stare. I spotted my sweater on the piano and snatched it, trying very hard not to think, not to look at him, when I put it on.

"Bella – "

"Don't," I cut him off. I ignored the tremor in my voice. Despite everything, there was a bit of dignity left in me. I was determined to get out of here without falling apart. "I just want to get out of here."

"Bella, you don't understand…"

"I don't want to understand," I snapped. My boots were next to the door. I just stuck my feet into them. I'd zip them properly on the elevator.

"Bella, wait," Alice pleaded. Again, her expression was a riddle to me. Remorse was stronger than anything else. I didn't linger to figure it out. I risked a last glimpse of him before I was out of the door.

xoxox

Dozing off seemed to be the perfect escape, but my body was too alert to just give in to it. My mind was playing one memory after another as I struggled to find any hint at all in their behavior about what was going on, but there was none. I tried very hard to repress any memory of the night before. I didn't want to remember the way he touched me, or kissed me, or said my name in a broken whisper. It hurt too much. Was it all an act, then? Was this morning an act, too? He sounded so sincere. Was I only hearing what I wanted to hear?

I didn't realize I'd fallen asleep until voices cut off the frenzied images in my mind.

"Shh, I think she's asleep," I recognized Alice's whisper. "Bella?" she asked anyway. I chose to pretend. I couldn't handle a confrontation just now.

"Don't, let her sleep." His voice startled me, almost giving me in. I muffled my gasp in my pillow. What was he doing here?

From over my head, I heard him sigh. "Edward, don't worry about it. I'll fix everything. I'll talk to her. I swear. I promise."

"This is just what I'm scared of, Alice, you're fixing everything." His voice was sarcastic, almost bitter.

"I was only trying to help."

"By lying to me? To her?"

"You weren't very honest with me, either!" she hissed.

"I was trying to protect her!"

"I can't believe it was her all along. During the summer, the first few months, Christmas?"

I cringed. I hadn't expected it to be a long term thing between them. But then again why wouldn't it be?

"I really don't think we should do this now. I don't want her to wake up and find me here."

Coward, I thought, shutting my eyes tighter.

"Fine, whatever," she muttered.

"Please let me know when she wakes up. I'll come up later."

His voice sounded a bit farther now, by the door. I thought I heard him kissing her. I didn't bother to look up and check. There was a murmured exchange by the door, too quiet for my ears, and then Alice closed it behind him and sighed.

"I'm sorry," she whispered into the air. If I hadn't known her better, I would have thought she was crying.

xoxox

When I next opened my eyes, I was alone in the room. I sat up slowly, letting my eyes adjust to the semi-darkness. Alice must have shut the window so I could sleep. That was nice of her, I guess. I wasn't quite sure how I felt about this whole thing. Did it put an end to our friendship now that I knew the truth about her and Edward? Could I possibly resent her for him choosing her over me? She was my closest friend here. Losing her because of a guy seemed so cliché, so unnecessary.

I didn't know what time it was, or even if it was the same day. Exhaustion filled me to the core. I was weary of crying. I desperately needed a shower. I vaguely remembered taking a quick shower this morning before this fiasco began, but it felt like ages ago. And I could still feel his scent on me. I wanted to wipe every trace of it, as if it would somehow enhance forgetting. I wished memories were so easy to erase.

The door opened a crack, and Alice's eyes met mine before I could make a decision to feign sleep again.

"You're awake," she exclaimed, and rushed in. I eyed her uncertainly as she came to sit on my bed. I didn't know what to say to her, how to start. In my hazy state of mind, I could barely remember my own name.

"I brought you a sandwich and some hot chocolate," she said, holding up the bag she was holding. It had a Starbucks logo on it. I didn't say anything. She shrugged and put it on our desk before she reclaimed her previous seat on my bed. Then she gave me a closer, more careful look. "How are you doing?"

There was no point going in circles. "I've been better," I replied tersely. I was shocked at how raspy my voice had sounded.

"Bella, I'm so terribly sorry. I know it must have been horrible for you to find out that way, but please understand I had no intention in hurting you… neither of you." She stopped to examine my face again. "I spent the entire morning with Edward, telling him the truth."

"The truth?" I echoed. Shouldn't he know the truth, given he'd kept it away from me all along?

"He's so worried about you. He thinks you will never forgive him. You _must_ forgive him, Bella. He had nothing to do with this."

"No. It just happened."

She missed the sarcasm in my retort. "Exactly. It was all just wretched coincidence. Nothing really happened, when you come to think of it. Everything will look brighter in the morning."

"Nothing happened?" I gawked at her in disbelief. "You… you _lied_ to me, Alice, you both did! Edward led me on for who knows how long, you led Jasper on – "

"Jasper?" she cut me off, her brows furrowing in confusion. "How did Jasper get into this conversation?"

"Isn't that something you should ask yourself? I thought that you and him – "

"It has nothing to do with me and Jasper!"

"It has _everything_ to do with you and Jasper!" I yelled at her. How could she be so dense? "You're telling me you're crazy about Jasper, that you were _destined_ to be together, no less, and yet all the while you and Edward – "

"Wait," she stopped me, raising one arm. Then she looked at me strangely. "Bella, I think you misunderstood something."

I snorted. _Some_ misunderstanding, this was.

"Bella, Edward and I are not together. Not in the way you think."

She said it very slowly, as if I were a child. I rolled my eyes and scoffed. Surely she didn't think I was that gullible.

She sighed. "Maybe I'd better start at the beginning."

"It's a bit late for the beginning."

"No, it's not, because you need to know this."

"I don't _need_ to know anything, Alice, I don't _want_ to know."

"_Ugh_!" she cried out, and there was clear frustration in the sound. "Will you stop being so difficult for one minute and just _listen_? I'm trying to tell you the truth because obviously you got things wrong this morning."

"What are you talking about?" I couldn't help curiosity from sneaking into my voice.

"Do you remember how, during our first week here, you asked me if we have met before?"

It seemed like so long ago now, but I remembered. The recollection lingered at the back of my mind, forgotten until now. I nodded.

"I lied to you that day. We _have_ met before. I knew it as soon as I've seen you at the auditions, as soon as they announced your name."

That memory was vague, but still there. There was that unexplained recognition in her stare the first time our eyes met. Those same eyes were locked on mine now, strangely intent. I watched her questionably, but I hadn't expected her next words.

"You came to my cousin's wedding two years ago."

Her cousin's wedding two years ago… surely she didn't mean…

A gasp escaped me at the same moment she nodded somberly. "Edward is my cousin."

She lied to me. Nothing was as clear as this fact. And all the tiny contradictions suddenly fell into place. She'd been so flustered because she thought I'd recognized her from the wedding, not from the auditions. She had claimed not to know Forks, although only a few hours ago I heard her comment about Edward's behavior during the summer and Christmas. I remembered feeling ridiculous for insisting on seeing her before. I also remembered her careless dismissal. _I've never met you in my life_, she'd said. She'd lied.

"Why would you hide this from me?"

I didn't realize I asked it aloud until I saw her face. "Because I saw the way he was looking at you during that wedding. He didn't know I was looking. He doesn't like it when I interfere in his life, but that doesn't mean I don't _see_. And I saw what looking at you did to him, even before he understood it. I saw the complete mess he'd become, and how impossible it was for him to get you out of his mind. When they said your name at the audition, it was like going back in time. I knew Edward was in that auditorium playing, and while I was sure he'd recognize you, I thought he'd never have the courage to actually talk to you. Shows how little I know him, really," she chuckled sadly. "When I got my room assignments and your name was on it, and I knew it had to be a sign. You were _meant_ to be my roommate. Just like I was meant…" she faltered, and looked at me kind of fretfully. It was the same look she'd given Edward earlier that day. "Just like I was meant to get you two together."

And then it all made sense. As twisted as it was, it did. _I'm really glad they paired us together_. It was more than just a friendly compliment. And now, suddenly, something else had occurred to me. I felt incredibly dizzy as the truth came crushing at me. "You never had a brother," I whispered as this realization hit me.

She shook her head, keeping her gaze locked on mine. "Just a cousin I love very much. Edward Anthony Cullen."

The name burnt a hole through my heart.

"I should have told you directly. I wanted to, so many times. Especially when you told me you broke up with Jacob. I had no right to do this to you, to neither of you. I never told Edward you were my roommate. I was trying to talk both of you into meeting each other, hoping you'd figure it all out as soon as you saw each other. I didn't know you'd somehow meet here, I didn't know you had a class together. And then Jasper came along and sidetracked me. And eventually, somehow you did a better job getting together than I did in trying to get you together. Bella, please," she said, suddenly clasping my hand. "He didn't have anything to do with this. He's a victim of the circumstances, just as you are. He'll never forgive me if I don't convince you to come back. He loves you so much."

_Was_ he a victim of the circumstances? I remembered his vague talk about his cousin, how she had never seemed to come up in conversations even though they were supposed to be very close, how he claimed to be telling me about her when he'd never done. He said he didn't like telling me about his family because he was scared to drive me away. Was that all he was scared of, really? What if he was in this with her?

But even if he were, for which purpose? There was really no point to go through all this trouble. Or maybe it wasn't that much of a trouble, not really. Maybe I'd just made it easier for him because I'd been willing to believe the lie. I knew he'd known the affect he'd had on me, but I'd never thought of him as one of those guys who'd use it, who would go that far to get what they wanted. Showed me how little I'd known him. At least that was something I still had in common with Alice.

"Bella, please say something."

"I can't…" I spoke through tears. I could feel them on my cheeks. I wasn't making much sense. I cleared my throat, struggling to speak again. My mind was a blur. "I don't want to talk about it just now."

"At least give him a call so he'll know you're okay," she pleaded, handing me her cell phone. I shoved it aside, using more force than I'd intended. It fell on the bedspread. I owed him nothing.

"Bella, honey, I know you're upset, I would be, too, if – "

"I'm not upset," I contradicted her, my voice breaking on a sob. I was more than upset. I was furious, but with myself for falling into their trap, into _his_ trap. Was it all a lie then? Was last night the final step of his extremely elaborated scheme?

"I'll understand if you never want to speak to me again. You have every right to. But please, _please_ believe me he had nothing to do with this."

"Why would I believe you?" I spattered, crying openly now. I didn't care she was right there, that she flinched ever so slightly at the sight of those first tears. If this was the consequence of something she'd done, I wanted her to witness it.

"Because even though I did a horrible thing, I'm still your friend and I love you. I care about you. And I care about him, too. I hate to see what this thing will do to you."

"You really should have thought about this before, shouldn't you?"

My question clearly hit home. She seemed stung. I regretted it instantly, but didn't apologize.

"I just want to be alone," I whispered. She didn't say anything, but her expression was grave. She nodded and got up, then slowly left the room. I pulled the covers over my head and cried myself to sleep again.

This time, sleep wasn't much of an escape, either. I spent a long while tossing and turning, and when I finally sank under, I wasn't alone. There were voices, images, shadows, all around me, making me wonder if I'd been asleep at all. They mixed into one another into an echoing sequence, and I was forced to watch and listen.

_What I'm trying to say is that I like you. I like you a lot. _

_It annoys him when I try to set him up with girls. You know what, you'll do perfectly._

_Well, for once, I really want to finish that kiss._

_He'd already been burnt once._

_I love you._

"Bella."

I grunted. This voice was closer than the others. Someone was trying to pull the blanket from my face. I resisted, pulling it the other way.

"Bella, I know you're awake."

I held back a gasp as consciousness, and with it realization, threw itself upon me. My entire body tensed. He was back. For a moment, it didn't matter I was furious with him, furious with everyone. It didn't matter that I was hurt and angry and upset. In spite of everything, my heart lifted at the sound of his voice, soft and worried and truly there.

"Bella, please?"

I let go of the blanket. As he could feel the absence of resistance, he drew it back. I blinked. The room was dimly lit. Only our reading lamp was on. I didn't know what time it was, or how long I'd been out. No light came from the window, so I assumed it was evening, or late afternoon. He was sitting on the edge of my bed, and a hint of a smile brightened his gruesome expression when our eyes met. It was hard to remember that only yesterday, only this morning, everything still seemed to perfect.

But everything wasn't perfect. They lied to me. I couldn't figure out why, but they did. _He_ did. The sense of betrayal was overwhelming. I felt the familiar sting in my eyes as this realization hit again.

He cringed, a reaction to my tears, I assumed. He reached out as if to touch my face. I flinched back as if he had meant to slap me. The motion seemed to startle him. He froze.

"I'm sorry," he said, so quietly it was almost a whisper. His hand remained suspended in the air for a second before he slowly lowered it to his lap. "Bella, I'm so sorry about everything. Alice says you think I had something to do with this, but I would never… I could never…"

"I don't want to hear this."

"Okay. I understand. I just wanted you to hear it from me. This is exactly what I meant about my family interfering, this is exactly why I haven't – " He sighed, and shook his head. "I guess the damage has been done anyway."

I didn't respond. I could barely look at him.

"Last night – "

I shook my head, and his voice trailed off. The memory was still too poignant, and far too painful. I couldn't handle hearing him speak it, too. It would make it all too real. "I think… we were taking things too fast," I heard myself say. I cringed inwardly, because I knew what was coming next, what _had_ to come next. I looked up at him, trying to block the misery in his expression, trying harder to ignore mine. "And I think I want you to go now."

He didn't look stunned, just extremely sad. "Bella – "

"Please?" My voice broke. I saw him wince. I forced my eyes on his. I meant it.

He deliberated, but then nodded. "Okay. Alright, I'll go. Just… promise you'll call me, when you're better. There are… things to be said."

I kept my eyes on the bedspread.

"Bella?"

"Yeah. Okay. I promise," I replied harshly. I didn't look up to meet his stare. If I did, he would know I was lying.

I kept my gaze low until I heard the door being shut. His footsteps echoed down the hall, until they disappeared altogether. I took a deep breath, and nearly chocked on another sob. I wanted to scream, or break something, or do anything to let out that despair that had been bottled up in me throughout the day and couldn't be released through sleep, but it went deeper than that. It was going to leave a scar, I could tell. I just sat there, numb and lifeless, with my knees pressed to my chest, stupidly hoping it would be enough to prevent myself from falling apart, as hopelessness slowly washed over me.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Whoa. Last chapter got **_**way**_** more attention than I thought it would. Since most of you were bothered by Bella's response to the latest revelations, I thought I'd stop and explain myself instead of replying everyone's reviews. Talking about it with a friend who reads this, we decided that sometimes readers see things differently than the writer, so I hoped that hearing my side would help you to make sense of the motivation behind Bella's actions (or not, which is also okay). **

**I was aiming for a really emotional chapter when I first wrote Bella's reaction. Things started on perfect that day for her, and by the end of it she feels her world is falling apart. I'm not saying she's blaming Edward in what happened, but I think she would feel betrayed, or rather – that she can't trust anyone (she doesn't know who to trust). Remember that the confrontation scene happens in a matter of minutes. I think she's too overwhelmed to really process what is happening, and therefore her reaction, especially regarding Edward, might seem a bit harsh. The way I see it, she doesn't stop to think. She blames him because it's the easiest thing to do. She says it herself in the previous chapter: it's easier to consider him guilty in everything even though the contradictions are extremely obvious. Also, remember Alice is the one telling her he's had nothing to do with it, and Alice has been proven untrustworthy, so why would Bella believe that? **

**When I posted this chapter, I thought it might be a bit too over the top, but I decided to keep it as it was without revising it. I don't regret it – if Bella wasn't overreacting, there wouldn't have been a story; that's a way to look at things too. I **_**can**_** promise you a happy ending though, so don't give up on this story just because you think Bella is a bit stupid right now. Sorry for the lame joke, but she's only human. The fact you guys feel something for her, as if she was a real person, tells me I reached my ultimate goal here, every writer's ultimate goal, and that's enough for me. So thank you, and keep those comments coming because they've proven to be very helpful!**

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Chapter Twenty Two – Edward

"Okay. We just need to calm down. This is not a big deal in any way."

I shot Alice an incredulous glare. "Not a big deal?" I echoed, feeling my fury growing again. "She literally kicked me out of the room!"

"Edward, she's upset, she's had a long, emotional day, she'll be fine tomorrow! Trust me!"

I narrowed my eyes at her. She flinched, as if she realized it was the worst thing she could say to me. I sighed, but didn't apologize. "Maybe you should go back."

"And leave you alone like that? No way. If you hurt yourself, I will be held responsible. I could never look Esme in the eye again."

"I'd rather you make sure _she_ doesn't hurt herself. I don't like it that she's alone there." She looked more than messed up when I left her over an hour ago. She looked wrecked. I'd never seen her so shaken, so wounded, nor had I thought I'd have to. This was the worst thing that could have happened, in the worst timing. I couldn't believe it was still the same day I'd told her I loved her. It had been an incredibly long day. I felt drained. I just wanted to bury my head beneath a pillow and forget it had ever happened.

But it _had_ happened. And she might never forgive me.

I groaned, and buried my face between my hands as this realization hit me one more time. The sofa shifted under Alice's weight as she scooted closer to me. "I feel horrible," she whispered.

"You should," I replied wryly without looking up. It was cruel, but I didn't feel like being nice to her now. I thought I deserved to be a little selfish, under the current circumstances.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay? I can stay over."

"You should be with her. I'll be fine."

I didn't look up until I heard her sigh and felt her getting up from the sofa. I listened as she put on her coat and took her purse, as she walked to the door and slowly shut it behind her. Only then, when I was sure I was alone, I straightened up. I was so tired it ached. Loneliness echoed from every corner of the empty apartment. The silence was piercing. The sight of the piano was just too much.

I stood up too fast and dizziness washed over me. This was when I realized I'd hardly eaten anything all day, and even when I had, it was because Alice had insisted. I was past hunger though. I didn't want anything. I just wanted to sleep and forget.

The bed was still unmade, a cruel reminder of how this morning had started. Considering my hope to leave the memories behind, there was certain irony in it. I sprawled on it fully clothed. I was too tired to change. The pillows still carried her scent, but it was faint. By tomorrow morning, it would be gone.

And so would she.

xoxox

The first few days were the hardest.

I'd never felt so lost, so lifeless. Not even at the time I thought I couldn't have her, because there was always hope that I might. Now there was no hope, no nothing. She didn't want to see me. She refused to take my calls. She hardly spoke to Alice. When she saw me in the hallway, she'd always look down and go the other way. I dreaded the thought of having to sit next to her on Friday when she was still so upset with me, but there were more pressing problems ahead. We had a session planned with our instructors on Wednesday, in which we meant to go over what we'd had for the spring project. This project, which only a few days earlier seemed like a blessing, was beginning to feel like a curse. It was supposed to be a big thing for us, for our relationship, but now it was just an unnecessary burden.

It was no surprise to me that when I walked into Mr. Shapiro's class on Wednesday, he had a broad smile waiting for me. "Big day today, Mr. Cullen."

"Yes, Sir," I agreed without much enthusiasm.

"You have everything ready? Your notes, your music?"

"Everything's here." I kept my eyes away from him, busying myself with taking a seat and touching the keys. I could only hope he wouldn't notice my detachment.

But, of course, he was more observant than I'd given him credit for. "Something is wrong." It wasn't a question. A moment later he leaned against the piano and gave me a closer look. His eyes narrowed behind his spectacles. "What is it? You look like you haven't slept for days."

"I haven't, Sir. But it's nothing. I'm fine."

A sly grin appeared on his lips. "Troubles in paradise?"

"Something like that, yes," I conceded. There was no point denying it. He'd figure it out as soon as he'd see Bella later. "We had a fight. It's not going to affect this project in any way, so don't worry about it." I was still extremely grateful to him for this opportunity, and I felt bad it had to happen after he'd worked so hard on getting us together for this project. It wasn't his fault that things had gone bad. And I couldn't let it get to me. I was going to have to get over my personal misery and do my best on this project. I wasn't going to let my schoolwork lag behind. I was determined to do well.

"It's not the project I'm worried about, Mr. Cullen, it's you. You look dead on your feet."

"I'll be fine." I cringed, realizing it was a drift from the "I'm fine" I'd previously given him.

If he noticed, he didn't say anything. "How bad can it be?"

I wavered, then thought I'd better just be honest. He would see for himself soon enough anyway. And besides, it felt good to just get it off my chest. "We're not speaking."

"She didn't like that melody you composed for her?"

I knew he was hoping to amuse me, and I wished it was helpful. "I've done something. I think. Or rather, she thinks I've done something that I haven't."

"Perhaps a little Haydn will cheer you up?"

Nothing could cheer me up, but I didn't want to tell him that. So instead I opened my music book at the page he'd instructed, and immersed myself in the composition he'd chosen as best as I could. I guessed I did it well, because he never stopped me once like he'd so often done. Either that, or he noticed I'd been in a really bad shape, and didn't want to push me any further.

I could feel his eyes on me, following my every movement, when about an hour later, we made our way to one of the rehearsal rooms upstairs to join Bella and her instructor. We spoke little on our way there; or rather, he spoke, and I tried to hide my disinterest. It was his anniversary this upcoming weekend, and he wanted to take his wife out to dinner. Only when he started asking me about restaurants in the area, I understood he was trying to divert my attention. That was sweet of him, in a funny way.

She was with her instructor at the farthest end of the room, stretching her leg over a long metal bar. Her instructor held her leg down as if to support her as she lifted her weight on the toes of her other foot. Her eyes were half closed in concentration. Her body remained erect, as if the position hardly bothered her. Her head was held high with one arm forming a perfect arch above it. It was impossible to take my eyes off her.

They both looked up when Mr. Shapiro opened the door. Her instructor smiled warmly. Bella froze in place, but quickly recovered herself and followed her teacher across the room. She was in black again, but it wasn't my favorite sleeveless piece. This one's sleeves got to her elbows. She wore a transparent black skirt over her tights. Her hair was tied back, which made her face stand out. I was startled by what I'd found there. She looked worse than I felt. From the corner of my eye, I saw Mr. Shapiro's forehead crease in concern when he stepped forward to greet her. I knew what he was thinking. If I was dead on my feet, then she looked twice as bad.

They left us alone then, when Mr. Shapiro followed Madame La Pierre to make sure the piano was well tuned. The distance between us felt larger than it had actually been. We eyed each other carefully, like two rival children on the same playground. She blushed the first time our eyes met, but soon afterwards frowned, as if the reaction was involuntary.

I felt bound to break the silence. "Hey."

She was barely looking up to meet my greeting. "Hi."

I uttered the next question with difficulty. "How are you holding up?"

"I've had worse."

She wasn't looking at me, so I knew she was lying. I wanted to challenge her statement and ask when was the last time she'd slept properly, but I didn't want to push my luck or provoke unnecessary quarrels. Beside, it seemed as if it had pained her to speak to me at all, and I didn't want to inflict even more pain than I'd already had. She looked in a pretty bad shape as it was, worse than she had been when I left her room on Saturday evening. I sort of hoped some of it would sink in by now, but clearly, it hadn't, not even close.

Mr. Shapiro said they were ready for us. Acting instinctively, I laid my hand against the small of her back, meaning to lead the way. She flinched ever so slightly, and I let my hand drop to my side. I sidled, murmuring an apology as she walked passed me. I kept my gaze on the floor. Even this hint of a touch sent a shiver down my spine. Its memory lingered long after I removed my hand.

As if this wasn't enough of a torture, then I had to play my tune to her teacher. Nothing was left of my previous resolve to do well. Somehow I lost it after seeing the bad shape she'd been at because of me. I was playing on autopilot, trying very hard not to think, not to imagine her pain-struck face, her lowered gaze, the hint of tears in the corners of her eyes. I tried to vent all my energy to the previous week, when I played it for her for the first time. It was tough, maintaining this balance between staying detached while still making sure the music wasn't completely void of emotion. If Mr. Shapiro had sensed my distress, he didn't comment on it. The worst part of all was when her teacher asked me to play a second time, in which she stopped me after a moment and asked Bella to stand up and show her the choreography she had in mind for my tune.

The way she held herself was admirable. She was so much better at this than I'd been. Her voice didn't even tremble when she explained her general outline. It amazed me how she had it all sketched out already, considering she'd only heard the piece once last week. When she demonstrated the steps for her teacher, it was almost easy to forget she was in pain. The sadness in her eyes was nearly fully masked, visible only to those who truly knew her. She was one hundred per-cent professional, completely focused on the task in hand. I'd never appreciated her more than in that moment.

This session seemed to last forever. Madame La Pierre stopped me more times than I'd been used to so she could correct Bella or add in a few suggestions of her own. Although both our instructors remained unaware of it, tension lingered heavily in the air. I hardly dared to look up from my score and face her. When she danced, she kept her gaze locked on a spot on the opposite wall, obviously avoiding me as well. When it finally ended, I heaved a sigh of relief. Bella was clearly relieved too. She all but flew to the corner of the room to snatch her towel as soon as Mr. Shapiro announced it was time to go.

She didn't have a choice but to join us when Madame La Pierre discussed schedules with us. While Bella took part in the conversation, which necessitated a minimal interaction between the two of us, as well, it was clear she was keeping it to essentials only. She didn't say more than she had to. She didn't speak unless she'd been addressed. Like I'd predicted, we were going to spend a lot of time together. Unfortunately, it came in the worst timing imaginable. Submission date seemed so far all of a sudden. I wondered if I was strong enough to handle it.

xoxox

"_Of course_ you're strong enough to handle it!" Alice determined, waving her chocolate muffin in the air as if to stress the point. She sent dozens of crumbs flying in the process, but she hardly seemed aware of it.

"Alice, someone has to clean up the floor," I said, nodding towards her muffin. She lowered her arm with a huff. "I don't know, maybe I should just call it all off. It will be easier."

"Calling it off will make you look like a coward, and you're not a coward."

"She doesn't want me on this. She barely looked at me this afternoon."

"Maybe she was nervous because her teacher was there." I shot her a dubious look. She didn't seem intimidated. "Ah, give it time, it'll be fine!"

"Always the optimistic, aren't you?" I couldn't help sounding bitter.

"No. It's just that I've got a really good eye perception," she said, blowing Jasper a kiss from over my shoulder. I wanted him to finish his shift already, so we could be on our way, get to the cinema and forget we'd ever had this talk. "I can see your future, and you, my dear cousin, are going to win her back," she said, pinning me with a significant look.

"Really? Did you read it in my coffee?" I rolled my eyes.

She huffed scornfully. "I don't need tacky tricks. I just _know_."

"How do you know?"

"A hunch." Her smile was angelic. She stole another glance at Jasper, and leaned closer to me, as if to prevent anyone from hearing. "You were destined to one another, just like I was destined to be with Jasper," she concluded in a conspiratorial whisper. I stopped myself from smiling. Now I realized why she didn't want anyone, especially him, to hear it. "So don't give up, and don't think about dropping out of this project just because it's not working out after one session."

"Okay then. How do I get her back?" I challenged her.

"I don't know that yet."

"Some psychic, you are," I laughed, and snatched a piece of her muffin. The sound was almost strange to me. I hadn't laughed in days.

"I don't know the particulars. I'm just giving you hope," she reasoned. I rolled my eyes. How convenient. "Besides, you haven't waited for her for two years just to lose her so fast, have you?"

Her rhetorical question made things even worse. Now I just felt pathetic. No one could be as stupid as to lose her as soon as he'd got her.

Personal misery aside, there was something liberating about being able to talk about this with someone, especially Alice. I'd kept it from everyone for so long that now the sense of relief was enormous. Too bad it had to be under such circumstances. I braced myself for the 'I told you so' I could feel was coming, and looked up at her. "I have to say, it feels good to finally talk about it with you."

She shrugged. "Your loss. We could have done this way before, and maybe this unnecessary misunderstanding didn't exist." Then her expression shifted slightly, and she lowered her gaze. "I'm more sorry than you'll ever know."

Although I believed her, it was too late now, but I didn't point that out. She seemed upset enough as it was. "Will you be honest with me now?"

She faltered, as if measuring my question. She was trying to outguess me, and she knew she could be risking by replying either way. Eventually, she nodded.

I didn't really need to know this. I sensed it would somehow double my anxiety. But then at the same time, I _had_ to know. If this was my only way of making contact with her, I was going to take it. "How bad is it?"

The question was vague, but clearly I didn't have to say more. She let out a long sigh. "I've been watching her carefully ever since Saturday evening. On the surface, everything is very normal. She eats and she sleeps, she wakes up on time and doesn't miss any of her classes. She speaks when someone addresses her."

"But?"

"But her heart is not into any of it," she admitted reluctantly. "When it's just the two of us, she always makes sure to have a book with her to make sure I don't address her, but I know she's only pretending to read it. I know people start wondering what's wrong with her. Someone even suggested getting the school counselor involved. I talked them out of it for the time being, but it's only a matter of time until someone from the staff notices."

I shuddered inwardly. I hoped it would be over before that happened.

"I'm doing all I can, Edward. Please know that."

"I do. I just wonder if it's enough."

"It's the best I can do. I owe it to her, I owe it to both of you."

"Hey, sorry it took me so long," Jasper's cheerful voice sounded from over my head. Alice's eyes lit up. I winced, reminded of the way Bella's eyes used to light up whenever they met mine. "Are you ready to go?"

"Actually, guys, I think I'll just head home," I said, stuffing my hands in my pockets. Although I could tell Alice was refraining from clinging to him, they radiated so much love just by standing so close together. Spending the evening with them didn't seem like the perfect getaway anymore.

"Oh, no, you don't," said Alice, glaring at me. "I will _not_ let you sit alone in that apartment and mope around. You're coming with us, and if you're not laughing your socks off by the end of this movie…" Her voice trailed off, as if she couldn't think of a good enough threat. Jasper didn't seem surprised by her attack, so I figured he'd known all of it by now. I didn't resent her for telling him. It didn't matter now, anyway. Nothing mattered. I shrugged, and lagged behind as they led the way back to the street.

xoxox

Mr. Shapiro said little about the Wednesday session when I saw him again on Friday. I saw he was trying his hardest not to mention Bella at all when we went over the session. He wouldn't take an actual part in the sessions from now on, he explained. He and Madame La Pierre were supposed to grade our project, so we were to work independently from now until due date, a few days before spring break. They could only advise us from now on. I accepted my verdict silently. I was already determined to do well. If I could still learn something from her, it would be the professionalism she'd shown on Wednesday. I was settled on getting over myself.

Once we had the project issue covered, Mr. Shapiro assigned me four short pieces and ordered me to play one piece after another with hardly any break between them. It was almost as if had he meant to keep my mind off things. He didn't ask unnecessary or nosey questions, just subtly diverted my attention. He minded his own business, and I appreciated him for it. Before I left, I greeted him for his anniversary. He seemed oddly pleased by the fact I remembered.

I was more anxious about my next class than I thought I'd be. Wednesday included mostly hesitant looks on both ends with hardly any talking at all. Mr. Shapiro dismissed me on time, so I knew it meant I'd get there earlier. In any other circumstances I'd be happy for the chance to have a few extra minutes with her. Today the thought of having to force small talk made me edgy. I wondered if I had the nerve to stall someplace and then walk in Mr. Bronson's class in a ten minutes delay to avoid the awkwardness again, but then decided it wasn't worth it. And she'd know what I was trying to do. It wouldn't help in anything. I didn't want to appear as a coward. She'd already thought badly enough of me.

Even walking slowly down the hall, I got to class ten minutes ahead of time. It was too late to change my mind now. I took a deep breath, swallowed my fear, and opened the door.

Anya was sitting in Bella's usual spot. Bella was sitting in hers. It took me exactly a second to take this in, compose myself, and stroll to my seat as if nothing had changed. I murmured a quick greeting to the two of them, my eyes flickering to Anya. There was remorse in her stare, and it looked sincere. I knew she probably hated to be in the middle of this, quite literally now. Bella kept her gaze down on her the book she held open above her notepad. Although she didn't look up at my greeting, she murmured something in return. I couldn't really hear what she said, but I could see her lips move, so I knew she must have acknowledged me. That was something, at least.

I felt strangely relieved not to meet her eyes. I knew what I'd find there, and that it was bound to distract me for the rest of the class, if not for the rest of the day. I didn't want to witness the emptiness of her stare, reflecting my own. I held myself responsible for it, although I really hadn't done much. As long as I didn't know how to fix it, I considered myself responsible.

Anya asked me something about today's material, and I snapped out of my trance-like reverie. My mind was a blur, but somehow I managed a cohesive reply. I tried to steal another glance at Bella when Mr. Bronson called the class to order, but Anya was taller than her, and practically hiding her from my view. I wondered if that was the purpose of their changed sitting order. I resented it.

I tried to focus on the discussion, but today's reading didn't catch my interest. Sci-Fi wasn't really my thing. I had read it, though, if only to keep my mind off things. It was frustrating to have her so close by, yet so out of my reach. On some level I was grateful they switched places, knowing it would have been worse if I'd actually had her on my side. But there was also this selfish part of me, the part that wanted to hold on to any tangible memory of her, no matter how false.

Bella rushed out as soon as we were dismissed. I could see Mr. Bronson shake his head. She'd said nothing all class, which was rare for her. Clearly, he noticed something was wrong, and although he turned his inquiring gaze to me, I knew he would never question it. I put my things back in my bag slowly. The thought of going back to an empty place wasn't appealing. The apartment was filled with too many memories of hers.

"Edward, wait," Anya asked just when I was about to leave. I looked at her questionably. "I want to talk to you."

"Don't you have a class now?"

"Class can wait," she shrugged. "Friends is not to wait."

I couldn't possibly argue with that. I didn't want to. I needed a friend desperately. I nodded, and led the way outside.

We got some hot chocolate in the Starbucks across the street. Jasper wasn't anywhere to be seen, so I assumed he wasn't working.

Anya blew over her mug before she brought her eyes to mine. "I'm sorry about class. She asked me to move places."

"Switch places." I smiled bitterly, thinking how correcting her had always been Bella's role.

"She says she is not to come to class today. I to insist."

"She didn't want to come to class today?" It shouldn't come as surprise to me. I'd planned on doing quite the same thing earlier.

Anya shook her head sorrowfully. "She says she's to have headache, but I to know the truth." She looked up at me then, and her gaze was piercing. I'd never realized how blue her eyes had been before. "You are to do something. She not to tell me what."

"She thinks I lied to her." It was the best way I could think to sum it all up.

"Are you?"

"No. I love her." It was strange to confess it in front of someone else. I knew Alice had probably guessed it, but apart for Bella, I hadn't admitted it to anyone else.

"I know. I think she to know it, too."

"Tell me how she's doing," I heard myself ask. I'd already had Alice's grim report, but Bella was clearly on better terms with Anya. She could know things Alice hadn't.

She heaved a long sigh, and her expression became gloomy. "She's very sad. She's only happy when she's to dance."

"Does she talk to you?"

"A little, but only when I to talk first."

I tried not to cringe. It was one thing to hear it from Alice, but learning the truth from a second person was like a final confirmation. This was bad. It'd been only a week, but things couldn't go on like that. But I didn't know how to make things better from a distant. And she clearly didn't want me around. She'd hardly spoken to her friends; there was no way she would listen to me. "Anya, I want you to do something for me."

"If I can."

"I want you to watch over her. Make sure that she eats and that she doesn't sleep too much. Talk to her, take her out, distract her. Don't let her stay in her room this weekend." And I would try to do the same, I vowed. I'd get over myself, so I'd be able to get over her. It was my best chance now. "I don't want her to know you were talking to me. I don't want to give her more reasons to hate me."

She considered it for a moment, and then shook her head. "I to do as you ask, if you to promise me something."

"What?"

"Promise me that what you say is true. That you are not to lie to her."

"I'll never lie to her. I never have. It was a misunderstanding."

She laid her hand on mine. The touch was soft, but it brought on an overwhelming sense of loss. I tried not to wince or pull my hand back, knowing it would offend her. "I hope she is to forgive you."

"I hope so too," I replied, although with very little hope.

"And I'm not to think she is to hate you," she added, offering me a weak but honest smile. I struggled to return it. I didn't want her to know it sounded like pity rather than consolation.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: huge thank you to Mizra who made sure this chapter wasn't entirely hopeless. Love you lots, hon =)**

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Chapter Twenty Three – Bella

I could feel my balance waver a second before I nearly stumbled over my own feet.

"Damn it," I murmured. Even though I stopped myself on time, the rapid motion made me momentarily dizzy. I swayed unsteadily as my vision blurred with dozens of little spots.

The music stopped, as abruptly as my own halt. "Bella? Are you okay?"

"Fine," I hissed in the general direction of his voice. I kept my eyes close, and reminded myself to take long, even breaths, to channel my anger into them.

I really believed I was getting better. It had been a month since the day I discovered the truth, and I'd finally shown signs of recovery. I tried to keep the memory of the first week out of my mind, now that I sensed I was slowly becoming more like my old self again. It was mostly thanks to Anya. She kept me steady on my feet, and I owed her a lot for it. Who knew what could have become of me if she hadn't been there to force me back into life again.

But I couldn't fool myself. I acted like a normal person again, but the fury was still there, at the back of my mind, waiting for opportunities such as this one to resurface and show its ugly face. I hated this, all of it. I hated the extra time I got to spend with him now, when I could barely look at him, I hated the fact that we _had_ used the tune he'd composed with me in mind, I hated that my focus was so distorted while he remained so composed. More than anything, though, I hated the fact he still had so much impact on me, even now when we weren't even on proper speaking terms.

It was my third slip since the beginning of our rehearsal session, less than an hour ago. In the passing month, we tried to be civilized to one another. We got into small arguments every now and then, but it was nothing major. Today was different. The whole thing was slowly getting on my nerves, which had been pretty shaken to begin with. I could feel my patience slipping away along with my sanity. We had about a month before we had to perform our piece in front of our respective instructors, and it felt we were wasting too much time on pointless wrangle. To say it wasn't going well would be the understatement of the century.

"Are you sure? You look pale."

My eyes flew open at the sound of his remark. His voice was annoyingly pleasant. I spun to face him. Having to look at him directly was always painful now. His fingers remained frozen above the keys as he observed me, his brows furrowed with concern.

"I said I was fine," I snapped. I wondered if my lack of patience had anything to do with the fact I skipped breakfast this morning. I didn't sleep well the night before, and by the time I got myself to wake up, it was either getting breakfast, or be late to my meeting with him. And I didn't feel like retorting his snide comments, so showing up on time seemed like my top priority.

When I felt steadier and my vision cleared, I went over to get my water bottle. I ignored the constant growl of my empty stomach. It was accompanied by this steady pounding at the back of my head. I wouldn't think about it. It would be lunchtime soon. I could make it. "Let's start over."

He seemed hesitant, but it looked as if he figured I wasn't going to be nicer this morning, so there was no point to contradict me. He kept his eyes on mine for a second, and with the slightest nod of his head, he started playing.

I moved mechanically, from point A to B to C. I guessed that was exactly the problem. Keeping count like that made my movements less fluid. I was dancing to get things over with, which was wrong and something I'd normally resent, but I didn't have the energy to put emotion in my choreography now. I got away with it telling myself I'd do it better when it was our time to present the final piece.

Not five minutes later, I nearly tripped again. I held back a curse as I halted mid-spring. I glowered at him. "Did you do it on purpose?"

"_What_?"

I couldn't decide if he was stunned or confused, so I guessed he needed a clarification. "Were you playing faster on purpose?"

Definitely stunned. "I did _not_ play faster!"

"I was right on cue!" I didn't know why I was arguing with him. Clearly I was completely out of focus today. This was obviously my fault. But there was so much bottled in within me – loneliness, anger, exhaustion – that I just wanted to let it out. Considering most of it was aimed at him anyway, he seemed like the perfect target.

Apparently, he was in for a fight as well. "No, you weren't! You were off from the moment we started!"

The very fact he was answering me back infuriated me. I narrowed my eyes at him. "_You_ play to _my_ steps, not the other way around!"

He looked as if he stopped himself from rolling his eyes. "Funny. If I remember correctly, this was supposed to be a divisional _collaboration_," he spattered, unflinching beneath my glare.

"Fine, let's just try again."

"Fine, if you think that's going to help," he muttered.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I demanded.

"Look, Bella, I'd like to say I don't know what your problem is, but I kind of know that. I know _I_ am the problem. Can you just try to get over yourself so we could at least pass this exam, forget about it and get on with our lives?"

For a second, I was speechless. His menacing glare didn't scare me, nor did his unusually icy tone. His words caught me completely off guard. He'd never spoken to me like that. I doubted he'd ever spoken to anyone like that. I knew it was probably frustration that made him speak so bluntly. This clearly wasn't working. The chemistry was gone. This piece could have been so much better if we were…

"Look, I'm sorry," he said, his voice softer now. "I didn't mean to yell at you. I know you'd rather do this with someone else just now, but let's just face it. We're stuck with each other on this. Can't we just… put aside our personal problems and try to make this piece work?"

I let my head hang as shame and guilt washed over me. He was right. I really needed to get a grip. He had endured my prima donna rage, my complaints and snappish remarks silently so far, and I didn't stop to consider it was probably difficult for him too. We'd hardly spoken at all in the past month, and now we'd been forced together. It was easier to be professional with Madame La Pierre in the room, because I knew I had responsibilities to her. She had certain expectations of me as my teacher, and I couldn't let her down. But when it was just him and me there, the part of me that had still felt betrayed by him couldn't help surfacing.

I looked up and sighed. I kept my eyes on his when I nodded my consent. I knew I should have apologized, but I couldn't bring myself to.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, kind of hesitantly.

"I'm fine, I just skipped breakfast this morning."

"Do you want to take a break? We could…"

"No. I'm okay. Really."

He didn't seem to buy it, but he stretched his arms over his head and nodded me to go back into my first position. I took a deep breath as I waited for his cue. I was determined to do things right from now on. Despite my reluctance to admit it, he was right. It wasn't worth it, to ruin both our grades because of a personal problem that shouldn't even get in the way of this project.

For the next half an hour or so, everything went well. Edward's playing flowed perfectly, and I didn't miss any of my cues. I got my dizziness under control, and my headache seemed to subside considerably. We spoke little, never diverting to other issues except for the project. I was still kind of uncomfortable to be here alone with him. He'd never spoken about that day again, although it was obvious he wanted to.

And then, just when I began to be glad everything was going so well, I felt I was a beat behind the rhythm he'd set. I took my spring faster so I can catch up with him when my legs tangled together again. I refused to let it sidetrack me, and continued with the choreography as usual, which was clearly stupid of me. My spin got out of control when suddenly those black little spots were back. This time I was too late to regain my balance. I crushed to the floor with a yelp that echoed around the room.

"Bella!"

"I'm okay, I'm o – _Ouch, Ow_! _Damn it_!" I must have put my left foot forward in my pathetic attempt to block the fall. I tried to move it now, to assess the damage. The pain was sharp and instant. I cried out.

"Crap, are you okay?" Suddenly he was there, kneeling next to me, and reaching out to touch my foot. I tried to brush his hand off, but he was having none of that.

"It's nothing," I assured him, my voice trembling. Tears were reflexive. I sniffed, struggling to hold them back.

"Let me see," he murmured, gently brushing his palm against my heel. His fingers were feather soft as he circled my ankle. A whimper escaped me in spite of myself. My entire body went rigid as the white-hot pain snapped through me again. I saw him wince despite the composed expression he managed to maintain. "Hurts here?"

The pain was too excruciating to talk. I nodded, and hissed when he put the slightest pressure against my skin.

"I don't think it's broken."

"Is that your final prognosis, Dr. Cullen?"

He raised an eyebrow, probably catching on the flirtatious note I couldn't help sneaking into the comment. He didn't try to keep the grin out of his reply. "Didn't I tell you? Med school became my plan B."

I tried to laugh, but the sound came all wrong. It took me a moment to realize it was because my throat still felt tight with my chocked sobs. A tear slid down my cheek, as if to prove this point. I wiped it away angrily and bit my lip.

"Hey, hey, it's okay." His voice was so tender that for a moment, I forgot I was supposed to be furious with him. "I think we need to get you downstairs to make sure you didn't break or tear anything. Either you stay here and I'll go get someone, or you'll try to walk, or…" His cheeks reddened ever so slightly. "Or I'll carry you."

I considered my options. I didn't want to be left alone up here, even if he was coming back. And I definitely didn't want him to carry me, because I still hadn't forgiven him, and despite the pain, I still refused to be so close to him, and who knew what ideas he might get if he had carried me all the way downstairs. "I'll try to walk."

I could tell it was his least preferable option. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," I replied, sucking in a huge breath. "It doesn't hurt that much anymore."

He searched my face for a moment, and I hoped he couldn't read the lie in my eyes. Then slowly, gently, he helped me to my feet. I leaned awkwardly against him, and he supported most of my weight as we limped our way to the school clinic.

xoxox

"It's not broken," the nurse confirmed Edward's earlier suspicion. She smiled kindly at me, a response to my sigh of relief, no doubt. "It's just a twist. You should be fine in a few days, honey." She looked up to where Edward stood leaning against the wall. She glanced at him and brought her attention back to me. "You were lucky to have him around," she said, and there was a smile in her voice.

I held back a snort. Lucky was about the last thing I felt just now. "How soon can I go back to work?"

She looked at me as if I were crazy. "Not for a week, at least."

"A _week_!" I moaned.

"Ideally, even more than that, but I'm assuming you have pressing deadlines and you can't stay off your feet for longer. There's going to be a little swelling, but it should pass within the next few days. The extra time is just a precaution. You wouldn't want to strain yourself. Bed rest is the best remedy, you know. Yours is starting right now." She looked up at Edward again, and I stole a glimpse too. His expression was grave. "Make sure she gets there safely."

"Of course."

"No – "

He was by my side in a second. "I'm not going to argue with you," he said, and swept me in his arms before I could even protest. "It'll only be worse if you struggle," he warned me, tightening his grasp. I swallowed my resentment, and sulked all the way up to my room.

Taking me up to my room meant he'd have to skip his next class, but he wouldn't listen to me when I tried to explain how unnecessary it had been. He seemed reluctant to let go of me eventually. He slid my bag off his shoulder and put it on Alice's bed. We stood in front of one another in awkward silence. I tried not to think about the last time we'd been here alone. "Straight to bed, okay?" he asked, and a careful grin curled on his lips.

"Don't worry about it." I really didn't mean to do anything else. A week was enough of a torture, and I didn't mean to push my luck any further.

"I'll, umm, go out so you can change," he said, looking away. "I'll see if I can get you some ice."

He didn't leave until he was sure I was comfortable, my foot propped against pillows from Alice's bed and a pack of ice covering it. It helped, kind of. The ice was numbing the pain. He lingered by the doorway, running his hand through his hair. "I don't want to push my luck, but is it okay if I call later, to check up on you?"

Part of me wanted to say no. Regardless of his help, I was still mad at him, and I didn't change my mind about us. I didn't want him to get the impression that this incident was going to salvage our relationship, or whatever the hell it was to him. But there was other part of me who was grateful for his help. I was nasty to him all morning, and he didn't have to go through all this trouble for me. And considering my determination to make things better, I nodded.

"Okay. Well, get some rest," he said, turning to go.

"Edward?"

His hand froze on the doorknob, and turned to face me again. I hesitated, but offered him a weak smile. The motion was strange to me. It felt as if I hadn't smiled in ages. "Thank you."

I thought he looked a little smug when he left the room.

xoxox

In the following week, there was a parade of visitors coming in and out of our room. It looked as if everyone had heard about my injury. Most of my classmates showed up at least once during that week. Even a few of my teachers came over to see how I was doing. Madame La Pierre said she might be able to reschedule our project, but I was determined to get it over with before the spring break. I was feeling better already. The swelling was beginning to subside. Towards the end of the week, it was nothing but dim pain.

My mom was in hysterics when she found out. I didn't plan on telling her, knowing it would sidetrack her entirely, now with the wedding looming in so close. However, fate interfered, as it had always done, and she chose to give me a call just when I was in too much pain to get to the phone in the common room. Whoever answered her call gave her the number of Alice's cell phone, and she'd been bugging Alice ever since. Alice, who was still trying to make amends, swore to me that she didn't mind. Whether I believed her or not, I was already resolute on going beyond my silly technology abhorrence, and getting my own cell phone at some point during the break.

Edward called to check on me every day like I knew he would. We'd never spoken for more than a few minutes, and there was always more silence than conversation each time. He'd never come over, or asked my permission to do so, as if he knew I wouldn't approve. I could see Alice was thrilled about the whole thing. She didn't even bother to hide her smug expression whenever she handed me her cell phone, and then whenever she took it back.

"That's sweet of him," she said, smiling angelically, four days into my confinement.

Clearly, she believed his constant attention would enhance my forgiveness. I rolled my eyes. "Doesn't change anything, Alice." I appreciated his concern, but it didn't change things in the slightest. I was still angry with both of them. Whereas I could shut him out, it was impossible to do the same with her. She _was_ my roommate, after all.

She sighed sorrowfully. "Oh, Bella. There's so much you don't know."

I narrowed my eyes at her remark. "Well, that was the problem to begin with, wasn't it?"

She huffed, with frustration, it seemed. "Really, Bella, you're acting really immature about this."

My eyes nearly bulged. She had some nerve. She had been playing a matchmaker as if we were in elementary school, and she dared calling _me_ immature? This was just too much.

She caught on my incredulous expression, and shook her head. "What I mean is, you're so hopelessly close-minded! There was _so_ much more to this than you realize! It was, from beginning to end, a misunderstanding. Why can't you believe that?"

There was more frustration in the question, and a sort of helplessness, too. I didn't have an answer though. I didn't know why I didn't believe, why I didn't want to believe. An instinct, maybe; something stronger than commonsense. In a way I guess it _was_ immature, or selfish. Probably both. Alice was gentle, but I could tell she thought I was acting like a real bitch about the entire thing, and maybe I was. I didn't know what it was that made me shut out to them after what happened. Maybe I had trust issues, but wasn't it justified? Up until that moment, I trusted both of them completely. I still couldn't figure out why Alice would lie, why Edward would hide things from me, but the fact was that they had. How could I trust them again after that? How could I believe her now? And most importantly, _why_ would I?

xoxox

Having to stay in bed was as bad as I thought it would be. I remembered that week when Alice was sick a few months back, and how I hoped I wouldn't get sick too. This was worse, because I was perfectly fine, aside for my sore ankle. I was alone most of the day when Alice went to classes, but even when she was in the room, I tried to avoid conversation with her, knowing where hers would lead. Her attempts to talk me into forgiving Edward had been on a daily basis now. I was really better off not knowing all those things she hinted of. I didn't want to know. I didn't want anything to do with this.

When I was finally able to get up, I was filled with unused energy and eager to go back to work. To my utter dismay, none of my teachers allowed me to take part in classes. It was an order coming straight from Madame La Pierre. She said I was allowed to watch so I wouldn't miss out on more before the break, but she didn't want me to strain myself any further, especially not when there was no way of postponing the deadline for the spring project. It was the only thing I was allowed to dance in, for the time being.

So, it went without saying that I was impatient for Thursday to come. It was our first scheduled rehearsals after my return. We lost about a week of rehearsals because of my stupid ankle, but Edward promised it didn't matter. He said we were probably readier than any other couple for this project, and while I suspected he was only saying it to make me feel better, I hoped he was right.

He was already in the room, warming up, by the sound of it. He raised his head as soon as I pushed the door open. I didn't think he was aware of the wide grin that curled on his lips a second before he composed himself, and it settled into a more reserved expression.

"Hi," he said as I dropped my stuff next to the piano. "Welcome back. How are you feeling?"

"Like an animal being cooped up in a cage for too long," I mock complained as I laced my ballet slippers. My motions were slow and careful. I was stalling, and I knew it. As enthusiastic as I'd been about going back to work, I was also terrified of falling again.

But I didn't. And it turned out that this week apart had actually done us good. I was able to detach myself and really throw myself into the work, personal problems aside. He caught up with my mood pretty fast, so there were no awkward silences or uncomfortable glances. The project was top priority as it should have been from the beginning. This was when I knew I was really starting to heal. I got my emotions under control, shoved heartbrokenness into a dark corner of my mind where it remained hidden. I could go on without him.

xoxox

Regardless of how ready we'd both felt on the last day of rehearsals, we agreed that submission date had come too soon. I couldn't believe spring break was only a few days away. I tried to suppress the thought about going home. Imagining about what was expecting me there made me anxious, and I really didn't need to add anything onto my ongoing distress list. I'd cross that bridge when I got to it.

The exam was held in the auditorium where I danced in my audition, where Edward and I first met. I tried to block that part of the memory. Reminiscence wasn't a helpful thing just now. It just added on to my already existing stress. Not that it mattered, anyway. I didn't want to have memories of the two of us together. It hurt too much.

The thing about divisional projects was that the final presentation of them had taken a few days, so we were dismissed from our studies pretty much until the break. Edward and I were scheduled for the last day, a gesture from Madame La Pierre, who had assumed we would need the extra time to rehearse after the week we'd lost.

"Are you nervous?" he asked me. We were sitting at the last row, waiting for our turn. On stage, one of my classmates was doing a sophisticated tap dance. The music was loud, and Edward had to bend towards me so he could whisper the question in my ear. I tightened my jacket around me, hiding the goosebumps that formed on my skin; an instinctive reaction to his voice, even now.

"A little," I admitted, keeping my eyes on the stage. This was why his touch came out of nowhere when his hand suddenly squeezed mine. I gasped in surprise as my eyes flew to meet his. His smile was confident, reassuring, as he kept his eyes locked with mine. I didn't even have a chance to pull my hand back. Our names were called, and I followed him down the stairs towards the stage, my mind everywhere.

I could see Madame La Pierre was holding her breath as her eyes followed my each and every movement, like a mother would follow her child when he took his first steps. I got over my fear of falling by then, but seeing her so intent made me kind of giddy. I tried to block her out, to focus on the music, on the way Edward's fingers all but flew along the keys, on not messing up our final.

And it worked. I could see it in their faces when we were done. They wouldn't tell us our grade right away, but I was sure we passed, and under the current circumstances that was something. And I felt relieved not just to get this over with, but over the fact I wouldn't have to see him as often now. It surely put a strain on my life after what happened, but now I could just… try to pretend like it had never happened. I'd go home for the break, and when I'd be back here, it would be as if he'd never existed.

I ignored that bit in me that twitched at the thought.

"Good job," he told me when we were out in the bustling street.

"Yeah, you too," I replied. Then, on an afterthought, I added, "Thank you. For keeping up with me and… everything." I allowed a small smile to escape at my lame ending.

"It's nothing." There was this familiar shadow in his stare, and for a moment I feared he was going to mention that moment earlier, when he was holding my hand. I had a feeling he didn't mean to apologize for doing that. "When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow."

"And the wedding is next Sunday?" I read his face and I knew exactly what he was thinking. He was supposed to be there with me. If only. "Are you excited?"

I couldn't help the bitter chuckle that escaped me. "I'm _dreading_ it. I have about a week to recover before I'm back here, so that's something."

"That's something," he echoed, barely looking at me now. I wondered why he cared so much, _how_ he could still care so much, after everything. "Well, I hope I'll see you after the break."

I allowed myself a small, non-committing nod. I meant to do anything in my power to avoid him when we were back from the break, but he didn't have to know that. I was about to go when I heard him call after me again. I turned and gave him an inquiring look.

His eyes met mine, and there was this unexplained sadness in his stare.

"I wish it didn't have to be that way."

I struggled to keep my gaze locked with his, although this small motion hurt more than my injured ankle. "But it is that way." Now, almost two months since it happened, it was easier to say it without flinching, to control my voice. It didn't break once.

"Bella, I still – "

I shook my head no. If he was about to say he was sorry, I didn't want to hear it. "There's no point," I whispered. There was fresh pain rushing in, doubly overwhelming. It was like reliving it. And that was something I wasn't willing to do. "Just let it go. Please?"

With that, I turned and left, forcing myself to look straight ahead. I didn't wait for his reply. I didn't care what he had to say. _I_ meant to let it go, to let _him_ go. Even if it meant I'd have to keep myself away from him forever. He would never wound me again.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty Four – Edward**

I couldn't let it go.

I was determined to get Bella back, although I wasn't sure about the particulars just yet. In the past two months I'd kept my distance, first because of my unwillingness to let personal issues interfere with our school project, and then because of her injury. She had enough on her mind and I didn't want to become an unnecessary burden. But with the project finally out of my way, I was going to do everything in my power to make her listen to me. My attempt to tell her I still loved her, that I would always love her, hadn't come up as well as I'd hoped, but I didn't let it discourage me. The flame might be extinguished for now, but the spark was still there, waiting to be reignited. I wasn't much of a believer, but this time I chose to go with Alice's prediction. Bella and I were destined to be together.

I was looking forward to spring break. I needed the time away from school where I could get myself together and think how to work things out. Alice's mother was going to pick us up from the airport, since both my parents were working this morning. Emmett and Rosalie went on a road trip to the Grand Canyon with some of Emmett's schoolmates, so they were only due home a few days after our arrival. While I was looking forward to see them, there was certain relief in knowing I could spend the next couple of days free of Emmett's irritating innuendoes.

Over our heads, the pilot had just announced our upcoming landing. Uninterested in the weather report (because, really, what would he tell me I hadn't already known?), I turned to glance at Alice. She was fidgeting in her seat beside me, looking strangely distressed. That was odd. She wasn't one to get motion sickness. I wasn't sure if it was the faint light of the airplane or something else, but I could have sworn her face looked kind of green. "What's up with you?"

The question seemed to startle her, as if she had been deep in thought until I spoke. At the sound of my inquiry, her eyebrows furrowed in what could only be explained as discomfort. "There's something I wasn't telling you," she admitted, looking at me sheepishly from beneath her long lashes. Green turned its place to pinkish red. Blushing…?

"Something _else_?"

She hesitated, but only for a moment. "I know Emmett and Rosalie are away, but it would probably be fair to warn you anyway, just in case your parents say something." She paused, wavering again. There was fear in her eyes when she spoke again. "Everyone knows. About Bella."

"_Everyone knows_?" I echoed incredulously. A few heads turned in our direction. I couldn't care less. I saw only her now, flinching beneath my glare. "How?" I hissed.

"I told them," she confessed, her voice no more than a whisper.

Concern shifted into anger in a matter of seconds. "You had _no_ right to do this, Alice – "

"No, wait. They don't know the latest developments about you seeing her behind my back – " I didn't even have a chance to protest against the faint accusation in her tone – "Just that I've been trying to set you up. I had to tell them so they wouldn't surprise me with questions about my roommate with you in the room."

I finally caught up with her train of thought, and for a moment I was speechless as her scheme revealed itself to me in its entirely. "They've known since _Christmas_?"

I watched her shift uncomfortably in her seat. It was all the confirmation I could ask for.

I sat there baffled, staring straight ahead. Ironic as it was, suddenly I thought I knew exactly how Bella must have felt. I finally knew what it was like to be so hurt, so upset, so pissed off. All this time they lied to me, pretended to be oblivious in their phone calls and emails. They knew what Alice was planning to do and they kept it from me.

"Edward – "

"No," I shoved her hand away. She was lucky there were people around. I wasn't up for a public display. "This has gone too far."

"I'm sor – "

"I'm sick and tired of hearing you apologizing, Alice," I cut her off abruptly. I regretted the words as soon as they were out, but I couldn't take them back. I wouldn't take them back. I had to learn to be assertive or it would never stop.

xoxox

I spent the next few days in the sanctuary of my room. I only came down at dinner time because I couldn't bear refusing my mother. I could tell she heard the entire tale from Alice by now, which infuriated me even further. Even now, after everything that'd happened, Alice couldn't keep her mouth shut. Although I knew she was probably hurt I hadn't told her about Bella, my mother said nothing about it. Bella's name hadn't come up once during our conversations. Even Emmett, when he and Rose finally showed up, didn't say anything about his stupid brother who managed to lose the girl as soon as he got some.

It was the first break I hadn't spent with Alice. I just couldn't handle her pleading stares. I stayed behind when Emmett, Rosalie and her went to play pool at the pub or to catch the double feature in Port Angeles. I kept to myself and surprisingly, none of them bothered me. Schoolwork provided the perfect excuse for my enclosure, and I was glad I'd thought of bringing it along. Sophie was my most loyal ally, probably due to the fact she couldn't speak. It pained me to know that Bella wouldn't meet her after all.

The house was quiet when I went downstairs on Friday. I wasn't sure if my father had left for work yet. It wasn't even seven, but I knew his morning shifts started way earlier than that. I started the coffee maker and sat on a high stool that was facing the glass doors. I leaned against the counter and stared outside for a long moment. It looked unseasonably clear. It wasn't raining or exceptionally grey. I walked over, slid one of the doors open and inhaled deeply. It had rained until not too long ago. The air was so crisp, so fresh. Suddenly the burden of my confinement was too much to bear. I couldn't stay cooped in here any longer. I turned the coffee maker off and went back upstairs to change.

I felt my temper evaporate as soon as I caught a glimpse of the ocean. I scolded myself inwardly as I parked the car and made my way down to the beach. I should have done this long ago. I should have come here instead of shutting myself in my room. The beach looked unchanged, eternal, and deserted in this early hour. I found my favorite boulder and took my shoes off. I stuck my feet into the sand, reveling at the sensation of the soft grains brushing against my skin. I stared at the waves rippling on their way to the shore and just let my thoughts drift.

I didn't want to think about her, but I couldn't help wondering if there was the slightest chance she was thinking about me. Despite the strain from her mother's upcoming wedding, I wanted to believe that she was. I wanted to believe that she still cared. Even if I was alluding myself, there was something comforting about it. If she'd still cared, then not everything was lost. No matter how upset she'd been with me, no one could shift from love to ultimate loathing in a span of a few hours. It gave me hope. She _had_ to care.

Familiar panting sounds eventually disrupted the silence. I sighed, tearing my gaze away from the ocean. It felt as if I hadn't sat here for more than five minutes, although by the look of the sun, now higher in the sky and hidden behind new clouds, it was at least a few hours. It was only a matter of time before Emmett would figure out where I was. Sophie was leading the way, uncharacteristically energetic. The moment she was close enough, she launched herself at me and rubbed her face against the leg of my jeans. Emmett and I exchanged a nod, and he let go of her leash. Then he sat on the boulder beside me. I watched Sophie as she began to wander among the boulders. Emmett hadn't said anything yet, and I didn't feel like starting a conversation. When he finally spoke, he wasn't looking at me.

"You really shouldn't give Alice such a hard time, Edward. She was only trying to help."

I groaned. More feeble advice. I pursed my lips, trying to compose myself. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Fine. Go ahead and mope around until you go back to New York. That will make mom really happy."

I accepted the insult wordlessly. I knew I deserved it. I'd been spoiling the holiday for everyone. I hated what I found in my mother's eyes whenever I went down to dinner. I hated to be the cause of her pain.

"Alice says you really care about this girl."

At his strangely somber tone, I turned to look at him. The question still lingered in his stare. It was as if he was trying to read through me, and soon I began to feel uncomfortable beneath his gaze, but he wouldn't release me. It caught me off guard, which only reinforced my distress. The last time I'd seen Emmett so serious was when he told me he was going to propose to Rosalie.

I knew what he was waiting for. I also knew that I wouldn't be able to get away without a confession. The idea of making a confession didn't dissuade me – I didn't think I would be telling him something he hadn't already known or guessed. Still, I faltered, knowing that a spoken affirmation would make losing her much more real. "I think she was the one."

"_Is_, Edward; this kind of thing doesn't die out so fast."

"She thinks I lied to her, that I had something to do with Alice's scheme. She wants nothing to do with me, and you know what? I can't blame her. She's better off."

"You know what I think?" I knew he wasn't really expecting a reply. Something in his eyes shifted, from sympathy to something that was close enough to anger. "Accusing Alice is just the easiest way out."

I sighed. It was amazing, how Alice had always managed to come out unharmed. "She had no right – "

"Look, Edward, the bottom line is that she did it. She can't take it back and neither can you. Now, you can keep up with stupid grudges, or you can get over yourself and do something to fix things."

The most annoying thing was that I _had_ intended to do that before Alice had told me everyone had already known. Somehow, learning that she had done things behind my back again had managed to collapse the bit of confidence I had about my ability to fix things. Now I couldn't see beyond my rage. I didn't have a clue how to work things out, especially not with everyone's presence looming in the background. I felt as if they were all my eager spectators, waiting for me to make that one wrong, fatal move.

Emmett's eyes were unusually intent on mine. "You're telling me she's the one, but you know what I see? I see you sitting here. I don't see you do anything to get her back." His tone was softer now, but the accusation was there just the same. "You're sick and tired of Alice's interference, of everyone's interference, but maybe if you weren't so passive, it wouldn't have been necessary."

"As far as I recall, I did very well on my own, until Alice ruined it."

"Okay, so you just prove my point. You _can_ do this on your own."

I sighed. There was so much bottled in me; anger, loneliness, frustration, helplessness. I could feel their burden. I was tired of it. I was tired of being manipulated, of having others telling me what the right thing was.

"If you want her back, don't just sit here, dude. Because then that's not love, that's just laziness. And if you decide you want some help," his lips curled into his signature naughty grin, "I'll just pretend you've never said those nasty things about us and we'll see what we can do."

I laughed without humor. The sound was strange to me. It made me think of her laughter, of how terribly I missed it. "I think you're going to like her," I said before I could think better of it, and regretted it as soon as the words were out. It sounded too nonchalant now, when I didn't even know how to get her back.

"See, that's more like it," Emmett nodded, clearly pleased. "Why is that?"

"If you tell anyone what I'm about to tell you, you should just know I'll deny it and say you're lying," I warned him, but couldn't help cracking a smile. He just grinned at me, eyeing me expectantly. "She makes better lasagna than mom."

It took only a second for this to sink in. "Dude, you're _definitely_ getting this girl back."

xoxox

That evening, my grandfather joined us for dinner. Even my father was home this evening earlier than he had normally done. I tried to be civilized, to compliment my mother's cooking and laugh from Emmett's jokes, as lame as they were. I could tell he noticed what I was doing, because whenever he caught my gaze he nodded in approval. My mother seemed surprised, but discreet as she'd been, she said nothing about it.

There was something different about tonight. I knew it as soon as my grandfather asked Rosalie how she was doing upon his arrival. Still resenting Emmett for his choice, he had never personally addressed her, which infuriated Emmett. There was nothing no one could do, not even my father, and he'd tried. Tonight, although the gesture seemed to have caught Rosalie off guard, she just answered his queries and pleasantries as if it was routine. Emmett and I exchanged glances, but I soon dismissed it. Maybe it was a matter of age. Maybe he forgot he was supposed to dislike her.

When he asked me about school, I knew something was up. In my two years in Juilliard he had never _ever_ asked me about my studies. Since I'd so blatantly refused to go to med school, he chose to pretend as if I'd never gone to college at all. We had hardly spoken at all since then. When he asked me how I was doing in school this evening, I hesitated. I couldn't figure out if he really wanted to know, or if he was following some secret orders from my father. Emmett, evidently equally mystified, kicked my leg beneath the table. I raised one eyebrow in reply. I didn't know more than he did.

I stayed downstairs with everyone after dinner. After we all helped in clearing the table, my grandfather and my father disappeared in the den, and Rosalie stayed in the kitchen to help my mother with the dishes. Emmett brought over a deck of cards for us to play. He made a whole show out of mixing them, something I could never muster to perfection like he could.

"Show off," I muttered. He grinned, hardly looking at the two packs of cards as they mixed into one another with impossible speed. "What do you think that was about?" I added quietly, gesturing towards the shut door of my father's study.

"I don't know," he replied in the same conspiratorial tone. "But I have a feeling we're going to find out."

By the time Rosalie showed up, I was losing miserably. I excused myself then, meaning to get a book from my room. Watching Emmett play had always been safer than playing against him.

I scanned my bookshelves, but couldn't find anything that caught my eye. There was light pounding against the windows, softer than the noise a straying branch would do when it hit the glass. I walked over to the window. It started raining again. I pressed my forehead to the cool glass and stared at the darkness. I couldn't even make out the contours of the trees that surrounded the house. The sound of the falling raindrops was eerie, especially combined with the enveloping darkness. An involuntary shiver went through me. I'd lived here all my life, but I'd never felt as threatened or hopeless before. It was as if the seeming emptiness of the outside could consume me somehow, and would, any moment now.

A knock interrupted those frenzied thoughts. I tore my eyes from the nothingness outside, and blinked in shock. It really was my grandfather, standing on the doorway. It had been a while since he'd been in my room. I couldn't think of many reasons why he'd want to do it now.

"Are you leaving?" The question sounded detached, impersonal, which wasn't new. I hadn't called him Grandpa since elementary school. In our teens, feeling ourselves too old for childish endearments, Emmett and I used his first name while addressing him. Then we just stopped addressing him altogether. But now, all of a sudden, it sounded so wrong.

"Are you very busy?" There was a hint of hesitation in the inquiry, and certain urgency in his stare. I noticed that he didn't answer my question.

"Not at all," I replied uncertainly. I couldn't help but being suspicious. He hadn't been up here for I couldn't remember how long, and now suddenly there he was, and he was asking my permission to come in. Strange. "Do you need something?"

"Yes. I'd like to speak to you, if that's alright."

"Umm… sure," I stammered, confused. Were we on speaking terms and I'd somehow missed it? "Come on in."

He did. He shut the door and looked around. I only lit the lamp on my bedside when I walked in, so the light was dim. "It hasn't changed much since the last time I've been here." He said it casually, as if there wasn't a particular reason for him not to come to my room. His eyes fell on the lines of CDs along the farthest wall. The tiniest smile curled on his lips. "Your collection has grown bigger. Anything I'll like?"

"Maybe," I replied cautiously, still following him with my eyes. Something odd was going on. First he was nice to Rosalie, then to me, and now he was here. "What is this about?" I regretted the hostility that sneaked into the query, but I couldn't help it.

"I've been meaning to do this for quite a while. I wanted to call you, but I thought you might be too busy with your schoolwork. Besides, I wanted to do this personally, and not over the phone."

"I don't understand." I sat on my bed. He sat across from me, on the leather sofa beneath the window.

"I had a conversation with your father a few weeks ago. He lost a patient he'd become attached to. He was quite shaken by this, and so he gave me a call and told me about it. It made both of us… question some of the choices we've made in life."

I wasn't sure I liked the way this conversation was going.

"Your father wanted to be a doctor from a very tender age. I'm sure you've heard the story many times. For me, there was certain relief in knowing your father's wishes, because it meant I didn't have to try hard to bring him into the family trade. He was all too willing, and it was easy. _Too_ easy, I guess, looking backwards. I thought it wouldn't take much with your brother and you."

He stopped and looked up at me. His gaze was sad, almost remorseful. I couldn't tell if it was meant for Emmett and I, or for himself.

"You two had other ideas in mind, and I guess it caught me off-guard. I'm not proud of the way I chose to show it. I'm not proud of ignoring you, or your brother's wife. Your father's patient was my age, give or take a year. He's been sick for a long time, and yet he managed to keep the entire family around him. They were all there when he passed away.

"Your father's story made me realize two things. First, that life is short. The time I've been given shouldn't be wasted on sullenness. The second thing is that I didn't have a right to resent Emmett and you for your choices. You're fine boys, and I should have trusted your judgment. I've already spoken to Emmett and Rosalie and asked their forgiveness. Now I've come up here to ask for yours."

For a moment, I was speechless. I watched my grandfather carefully, considering my options. It was the last thing I expected to hear from him when he walked in here. I didn't know how I was supposed to reply to his request.

As if he noticed my dithering, he shook his head and leaned forward. "I don't expect you to forget the past few years as if nothing happened. But I thought perhaps we could… make things better from now on." He got up and wandered over to my desk, where my schoolwork rested in a giant, untouched pile. "We could start by you telling me what is it you do in school. Your father says you're really enjoying yourself there."

"I am," I said, still sort of dazed. It seemed too good to be actually happening. Maybe I was still downstairs with Emmett, dozing off on the sofa. In any moment now, he'd push me awake.

"You were always a great talent on that piano. Your father used to play a long time ago, did you know that?"

"You told me a couple of times." I couldn't help the smile I could feel curling on my lips.

"Oh, that's right, I did." He flashed a crooked smile at me. It was one of many traits I'd picked up from him.

We sat there in silence for a moment. The phone rang, making us both jump with a start. I ignored it. Someone downstairs could pick it up. That hint of a smile still lingered in the corner of his lips when he next spoke.

"So are you going to tell me about this girl your father hinted about?"

I sniggered bitterly. Apparently, my father wasn't any better than Emmett in the gossip department. "What's the point? You probably heard the entire story from Emmett."

"Actually, I haven't. I asked, and he said it wasn't his business and that you should be the one to tell me."

I gawked at him. Finally some impact?

He shook his head. "I can see that you're very sad. I could see it the moment I walked in the house, before your father has told me anything. I meant to ask anyway. The truth is you don't look so well. It's worrying."

"I don't know if I want to tell you about her," I said, carefully choosing my words. I didn't want to hurt him, but it was plain fact. He looked at me questionably, and I sighed. "You wouldn't approve of her anyway, so there's no point."

"Why wouldn't I approve of her?"

"Because she's a dancer." I didn't flinch. I wasn't going to hide it from him. If he had a problem with it, he might as well just leave. I was used to not having him around.

To my surprise, he chuckled. "I guess I should have seen this coming, with your brother marrying a musician." His smile died out, and his face turned serious. "Does she make you happy?"

In my mind I saw her face light up, that smile that got all the way to her eyes. "Yes. She does." I wouldn't say 'did'. I _would_ win her back somehow.

"Then nothing else matters."

He looked as if he meant it. I wanted him to mean it. Suddenly I missed him so much. My lips curled into a smile before my mind had even made a conscious decision. But my heart had already made the decision. All that was left to do was saying the words. "It's good to have you back, Grandpa."

He returned my smile, and I could see the emotion swell in his stare. "How about we go downstairs and you can show me how good you really are? See if this school worth your parents' money."

Funny. It sounded like something Mr. Shapiro would have said. "I'd love that."

Someone pounded on my door. "Operation Arizona, open up!" Emmett roared. The thumping didn't cease. My grandfather and I exchanged wry smiles. I went over to open the door.

"Does mom know you're breaking her doors down, Emmett?" He just grinned. I rolled my eyes. "What do you want?"

"Alice needs to speak to you right now."

"Fine, I'll take it from here."

He was inside my room in one stride, somehow blocking my way to the phone. "No. In the den." Where the phone with the speakers was. He still had that idiotic grin across his face, so I knew something was up. I knew him well enough to know he wouldn't answer any of my questions, so I saw no point in even asking. I shrugged, and followed him outside.

"What is this about?" I asked, and halted on the threshold. Everyone was in the den. My grandfather, who followed us downstairs, remained standing in the doorway as Emmett towed me into the room.

"_Edward!_ I have the most amazing idea!" Alice announced, her voice muffled through the speakers. I wanted to protest, but Emmett laid a restraining arm on my shoulder. _Just listen_, his eyes implored. "Since it's my fault you got into this mess with Bella in the first place, it's my job to get you out of it!" Always the actress, she stopped to catch her breath. "I don't think you need to wait until after the break to talk to her."

I felt self-conscious with everyone's eyes on me. I could feel my cheeks grow hot as she mentioned her name. I winced inwardly, certain that Emmett was monitoring my behavior, my body language, my breathing. "This isn't something I planned to do over the phone, Alice."

She giggled. "That's not quite what I had in mind."

I was almost afraid to ask.

"You should go to Phoenix!"

I gaped at the phone. _What?_

"Listen to me, _everyone_ agrees it's _brilliant_. And you've got the perfect excuse with her mom's wedding this Sunday."

"I don't even know where it is," I croaked. It was a pathetic attempt to get away with it; it sounded as if everything was settled before I even stepped into the room.

And I was right. "It's easy when your invitation comes with a map."

I couldn't say I was surprised. She'd done worse. "Shame on you, Alice. You stole an invitation?"

"_No_, silly, it's _my_ invitation. Mom and I booked that spa on Sunday ages ago, so I can't go, but I still have my invitation here with me."

I faltered. Bella _had_ invited me to her mother's wedding, and although I assumed it was no longer a valid invitation, she'd never taken it back. It sounded too tempting – to see her in a few days, not in a week, to get a chance to talk to her…

But what if she wouldn't listen?

"Silence means consent?" Alice pressed, violently crushing my bubble.

"He's considering it," Emmett said, his eyes leering at me.

"I'll never find a seat in such short notice."

"My friend's son works for U.S Airlines." My grandfather was suddenly right next to me, smiling at me like he hadn't done in years. "I'll give him a call right now."

"And if that doesn't work, we'll book you on Business someplace," my father said.

"An early birthday present," my mother added, the sweetest smile curling on her lips.

"So are we doing this?" Alice's high pitch came off as a screech through the speakers. "Rosalie, can you make sure he packs something decent for the wedding?"

"Sure thing, Alice," replied Rosalie, flashing a grin at me.

"Right! You get on the phone with the airlines. I'll be over with the invitation as soon as I can!"

"Alice, wait." The craziness of the idea had yet to sink in, but all of a sudden, I felt lightheaded with adrenaline. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." I couldn't see her, but if I did, my own smile would be reflected in her face.

I didn't know which one of them hung up, but the next thing I felt was Emmett smacking my back so forcefully I nearly toppled forward. I looked up in a haze to meet his wide grin. "Get out of here, little bro, I believe you've got a wedding to catch!"

I grinned, feeling new confidence. For the first time I was grateful for my meddling family.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter Twenty Five – Bella**

I spent the flight to Phoenix dreading getting home, but also looking forward to it. I was dreading it because I knew what was expecting me there. Doreen, my mom's best friend, supervised the preparations in my absence, but I knew she would expect me to take over, or at least help out, as soon as I was home. I was looking forward to it, because I knew that absorbing myself with my mother's wedding preparations would keep me well distracted from all those things I wanted to keep out of my mind. If this wedding had one advantage, this was it.

I'd already decided I wasn't going to be sour-faced no matter how strongly I still resented this wedding. My mom was happy, and I didn't mean to spoil this day for her, even though I wasn't really in a mood to be nice to people I hadn't met in ages. I would be doing this only for her. It was the least I owed her.

Doreen came to pick me up from the airport. I looked over her shoulder, expecting to see my mom, but she wasn't there. I couldn't help feeling baffled. I hadn't seen her since Christmas. I knew she was twice as busy now with the wedding, but really. Couldn't she spare one afternoon to come and get her daughter from the airport?

"Bella, honey, welcome home!" Doreen gushed, as she always had when she had seen me recently. "How was your flight?"

"Okay… where's mom?"

"The final dress fitting didn't go well – don't ask. She's still at the dressmaker's, so I said I'd come and get you and drive you over there and you can try on your own dress while we're at it!" She was kind of like Alice in a way, exuberant and unrelenting, and unstoppable when given the right topic. She kept on gushing over Renée's dress all the way to the car, and then on the way uptown. I just stared out of the front window and murmured my consent every now and again, feigning enthusiasm and surprise when needed.

It had always amazed me how Renée and Doreen had got along so well. They'd known each other since high school. Even in the time they lived apart, the time my mom had followed Charlie to Washington and back, they stayed in touch. While they shared some aspects of their personalities (like that Alice-like behavior), they were also the complete opposites from one another. Like my mom, Doreen was divorced, but she didn't have any kids. She had always been a second mother to me. She had known me since I was a baby, my mom liked to say. She worked for a computer company uptown, and as a kid I thought she must be insanely smart because of that.

"You look absolutely gorgeous, hon, I'm sure you're a little heartbreaker in that school of yours, aren't you?" she asked, casting a side glance at me. There was this teasing glint in her eyes.

"Hardly," I mumbled, still looking straight ahead. Nor did I want to be.

"Well, it only takes one. And your mom tells me you got _that_."

I'd expected it, so I wasn't completely mortified.

"So who is this guy? Renée said he would be coming to the wedding."

"He's no one, and no, he's not."

"Oh? But she said it was ser – "

"Look, Doreen, I don't want to be rude, but I had a long morning and I really don't want to talk about it right now."

"Of course, honey. I understand. How is your leg? I heard you sprained your ankle."

Those two were worse than Billy and Charlie. "I twisted my ankle. It's fine now, thank you."

Fortunately, shortly afterwards we arrived. I felt bad for the harsh way I'd spoken to her, and I meant to apologize, but I quickly learned it was unnecessary. The moment we stepped out of the car, Doreen was all smiles and squeals. She guided me into the shop, and introduced me with much flourish. My mom all but launched herself at me, bridal dress and everything. I put my arms around her slowly, feeling silly for resenting her. I'd never seen her so happy.

"Oh, honey, I'm so glad you're home! It's just not fun when you're not around! No offence, darling," she flashed a grateful smile in Doreen's direction. Her friend dismissed her with a wave of her arm. "Anna, you remember my daughter Bella, don't you?"

I waved at the dressmaker carelessly, and slowly pulled away from my mom so I could have a better look at her dress. I'd always thought she was attractive, but seeing her in that dress took my breath away. She didn't want anything extravagant. It was improper both for her age and the fact it was her second wedding, she'd said. I was surprised at her being so sensible. There was no puffy skirt or an insanely long trail, just endless layers of chiffon and organza in beige and pearly white. It suited her personality too, I thought. It didn't look uptight and snobbish. It was new age-y, but still kind of classy. Very much like I'd always perceived my mom.

I hadn't expected to be so blown away over this. I sure hadn't expected to tear up, but I couldn't help it. I blinked a few stray tears away as I took in the sight of her again. "Mom, you look gorgeous."

She snorted. "Yeah, it took about two hundred pins. I lost so much weight in the past two weeks, it's ridiculous!"

"Stop stressing," I chided her, and for a moment, it felt like old times again, just me and her, without unnecessary complications.

"Wait until you'll see your dress. This Edward is going to go speechless when he sees you in it!"

I thought my heart would stop when she said his name. "Umm, Edward isn't coming, Mom."

There was a moment of complete silence as if she needed a second to absorb this. Then her eyes widened. "What? But you said…"

"It was two months ago. Things happened, and he isn't coming."

"You're not together anymore?" She seemed genuinely upset. I nodded in reply, keeping my gaze on the floor. I couldn't bring myself to speak. "You haven't said anything."

"You were busy with the wedding. I didn't want to add on unnecessary stress."

"Oh, sweetheart, you know I could handle my daughter telling me – "

Anna, the dressmaker, had spared me the end of that conversation. I didn't even notice when she'd left the room. She was back now, carrying a large, opaque bag, one of those they used in dry cleaning places. My dress. It had to be it, judging by the glimmer in Renée and Doreen's eyes. "Go ahead and try it on," Anna told me as she handed me the bag with an expectant smile.

I wanted to protest, to tell them I literally just landed after bustling about airports all morning, that I was exhausted and kind of hungry and really wasn't into trying on dresses just now, but I made the mistake of meeting my mother's eyes. Anticipation still lingered there, and I knew I had to do this for her. I swallowed my resentment, kicked my shoes off, and took the bag with me into a fitting booth at the far end of the shop.

It wasn't as horrible as I'd envisioned it. It wasn't pink per-se, more like a bright shade of red, and it complimented my complexion. High-waisted and strapless, it wrapped around me like a toga. Like my mom's dress, it was made of dozen layers of chiffon that fell onto one another. It gave the dress a nice flowing look, which I liked. The top had this intricate, crisscross pattern across the middle, which gave it an interesting touch. I was still dreading its train, especially now, after my accident at school. The fabric whooshed softly as I turned to examine the back. A fairytale dress. A small, involuntary smile curled on my lips at the thought.

"Are you going to keep us waiting long, Bella? Come on, I'm dying to see how it looks!"

I stole another glance from over my shoulder before I pushed the curtain aside. Yeah. I liked this dress. Kind of. I grabbed a handful of its skirt when I stepped out barefoot. My mom gasped, and Doreen was right on her heel. I endured their cooing and squealing silently, telling myself I'd subjected myself to this willingly. The more I protested, the longer it would take.

"Your dress is really lovely, honey," my mom told me for what felt like the millionth time on the way home. Phil wasn't due back until later tonight, so Doreen was going to join us for dinner. Mom must have seen I was getting tired, and so she suggested getting a Chinese takeaway rather than eating out. Normally they would send me to get it, saying I was the youngest, but today I thought Doreen wanted to give Renée and me some quality time, which was nice of her. We waited in the car while she went in to get our order. "Too bad your dad won't be able to see you in it."

In the backseat, I tensed. This was news to me. "Dad isn't coming?"

"No. He just called me the other day. He thought he'd be able to make it, but no one seems available to fill in for him this weekend."

I'd seen this coming, but it didn't stop me from being upset. I sort of counted on Charlie to be there, one friendly face in the crowd of strangers, especially now when Edward wasn't coming.

As if she could somehow read my mind, my mom gave me a look through the rearview mirror. "Are you going to tell me about this guy?"

"There's nothing to tell, Mom; it's over," I mumbled, dropping my gaze to my jeans.

"You should have told me, sweetheart," she said softly, turning in her seat to take a better look at me. "Who left whom?"

"Does it really matter?"

"Oh, honey," she sighed. I didn't know what she saw in my eyes when I raised them to hers, but she said nothing more about it. From some reason, her letting go of the subject didn't bring on the relief I'd anticipated.

xoxox

Doreen left right after dinner, and my mom had to get things ready for work the next day, so I decided to call my dad. He sounded distracted when he picked up, and I could hear the echo of the TV in the background, so I knew it meant there was a game on.

"Hey, Dad."

"Bella! Hey! Home already?"

"Yeah, I just got here. Is it an important game? I can call later."

"Oh no, no, don't be silly. Hang on a minute." The noise lessened considerably. "So how are you, kid?"

"You know. The usual stuff."

"School is okay? I heard you had an accident."

I rolled my eyes. First Doreen, now my dad? My mom was one for melodrama. "Nothing serious, Dad. I fell and twisted my ankle. I'm fine now."

"That's good."

There was a pause. I wondered how I should approach what bothered me, but then he did the job for me.

"Your mother told you I wouldn't be coming, I guess."

"Yeah, she did."

"I told her no one could fill in for me, but the truth is…" He sighed, and my heart broke. "It's just too much, Bells."

"I know, Dad. No one holds it against you. It's a fair choice to make."

"I'm sorry I won't get to see you. Renée says your dress is a piece of beauty."

"I'll send you pictures," I promised unwillingly. More unnecessary attention.

"Make sure to do that," he sniggered, as if he detected the reluctance in my voice. The sound quickly ceased, and then there was a pause. When he next spoke, his voice was hesitant. "Call me after the wedding?"

There was so much pain in his voice. I wished I could be there and give him a hug. "Sure thing, Dad."

I truly hoped my mother knew what she was doing.

xoxox

I spent the hours before the wedding tossing and turning well into the night. The only time I'd been as tired was during orientation week in Juilliard, but even then I was able to sleep well. Insomnia had always irritated me when it attacked, because it sharpened my senses and made me think about things I'd rather avoid. It didn't surprise me, then, that Edward popped into my head. Stopping myself from thinking about him was nearly impossible with my mom's subtle queries and Doreen's hinting smiles, but not undoable. I managed to repress most of it, but now it resurfaced, hitting me full force as it did.

All along I'd been such a fool. I thought I found a way to rid myself of the heartbrokenness, but it was still there, just well hidden. I believed that extracting him from my life would be easy, seamless, but he was still there in my every move, every thought, every memory. I tried to be brave and nonchalant, to vent my anger so it would numb the loss, and it was all for nothing. Despite my attempts to deny it or convince myself otherwise, I missed him. In the past two months, although we were barely speaking, at least I still got to see him. Now I didn't even have that, and it felt as if he'd been taken away from me entirely. Despite my reluctance to admit it, yearning was stronger than rage.

I was even a bigger fool to believe I could get over him so easily. I wasn't over him, not in the slightest. I believed I could go on without him, but I couldn't, not really. I asked him to let it go, but it was stupid to ask him to make a promise I could keep myself. I still loved him. I didn't care if he hid things from me, if our relationship and maybe our entire friendship had been consisted on one lie after another. I was hurt and betrayed and scarred, but it didn't stop me from loving him.

Maybe I was making myself overly miserable simply by shutting out the truth, a different truth than the one I'd had in mind. Maybe there _was_ nothing to it at all, like Alice had tried to convince me. Maybe it didn't really matter if he lied to me or not, and I should have thought less of it and just take him back and save myself all this heartache. It was a stupid epiphany to achieve after nearly two months, but right now, I didn't care if he _had_ lied to me. I just wanted him back.

But what if I was already too late?

I sighed and kicked the covers off. It didn't feel like I was going back to sleep any time soon. I meant to go downstairs and get a drink, when I saw light beneath my mother's door spilling into the hallway. I tapped on her door. "Mom?" I asked, peeking in. Our eyes met and she smiled at me. "Why are you still awake?"

"I can't sleep." My own distress was reflected in her eyes.

"Where's Phil?"

"He'll spend the night with Barry. The boys took him out; I didn't want him to drive."

The idea of throwing a bachelor party to a guy who was over thirty seemed weird, but I didn't say anything. "Oh."

"Come here."

I walked over to her bed and scooted next to her like we used to do when I was little. She turned the light off and wrapped her arms around me before she threw the covers over the two of us. We lay there together wrapped in darkness. Her body was warm; I snuggled closer to her. Her heart was beating in sync with mine. I closed my eyes and listened to its soft rhythm.

"Are you nervous?" I whispered, nearly hating to destroy the perfect silence.

"A little," she admitted, chuckling. "Ridiculous, isn't it?"

"Not at all," I assured her. I paused, unsure if I could say what was on the tip of my tongue, because I still wasn't sure I meant it. But she was scared. She needed a reassurance, or she might do something stupid such as calling off the wedding half an hour before the beginning of the service. "I know I haven't shown much support, especially in the beginning." She squeezed my waist, as if in dismissal. "But he's a great guy. I know he loves you. You're doing the right thing, Mom."

"Honey…" She dropped a kiss in my hair. "I know it must be tough. But I promise it doesn't change anything."

I wanted to tell her that it changed everything, that it already had, but I held my tongue. "I just want you to be happy."

"I want _you_ to be happy, baby," she said. "I'm not just talking about Phil now," she hinted. I knew what was coming next, and braced myself for it. "If someone hurt you – "

"No one hurt me, Mom." I winced because my voice betrayed me, and I knew she'd know I was lying.

"You can believe that if it makes you feel better, but it's not what I see in your eyes." She had always been so intuitive. I should have known better than hiding things like that from her. "You really cared about this boy, didn't you?" she prodded gently. "You still do."

Unable to speak now, I just nodded. My throat felt tight, and the sudden warmth around my eyes was unmistakable. I bit my lip, holding back a sob. The sound was stoppable; the motion was not. She shifted ever so slightly behind me so she could wrap her arms tighter around me.

"Shh, Bella, it's okay… it's okay…" she cooed in my ear. At some point I just drifted with Edward on my mind and my mother's arms still around me.

xoxox

It surprised me how reasonable my mom had been about everything that had to do with this wedding. Aside for her choice of dress and the lack of bridesmaids, the wedding itself wasn't going to be a big deal in any way. The neighborhood Doreen had lived in was fancier than ours, and she had a beautiful garden. When the idea for a wedding came up, she had suggested having it there. I had never understood why a woman who lived by herself needed such a big house, but for once I didn't question it. I was relieved it was to take place there instead of the snotty country club.

I got one of the guest rooms for myself while my mom was getting ready in Doreen's bedroom. The window in my room faced the garden. It hadn't changed much since I was a kid, I mused as I looked down. It looked slightly different today. It was bustling with activity now, about two hours before the wedding. Waiters in white suits were wandering around tables with last minute preparations. Rows of Japanese paper lamps hung between the branches of the trees that surrounded the yard. Later, after sunset, they would give soft pinkish light. There were endless flowers of every type and color, since my mom couldn't decide which color she preferred for her theme. From where I was standing, the garden exploded with color, a perfect disarray of pinks and purples and oranges. It looked appropriate; erratic, like Renée. At the farthest corner of the garden by Doreen's gazebo, a few benches were set for the service.

I looked up, and nodded my approval at the sky. It was going to be a gorgeous day, of course. It wasn't Forks. You could actually count on the weather to act like proper springtime. I turned to observe myself in the full length mirror. I hated to admit it, but the dress didn't look half bad now. Its color sort of grew on me, and it looked well with my hair. The length of the dress actually made me look taller. I picked up the train of the dress and stared at my high heels with dismay. I could probably take them off later and no one would notice. The thought made me giggle.

"What are you laughing about, hon?" Doreen peeked into the room. Her dress, soft peach, had the same graceful fluidity of my mom's dress and my own even though it wasn't floor length like ours. Her hair was pulled up in a twist, and a few deliberately careless curls fell on her eyes. She sighed happily when she caught sight of me. "Oh, Bella, look at you," she said, all but dancing into the room.

Great. Now my skin matched the color of the dress perfectly.

I didn't protest when she put what felt like tons of makeup on my face, or when she straightened and then curled my hopelessly shapeless hair. I wanted to tell her there was no point. Give it an hour and it would go back to its formless mess. I remembered attempting a permanent curl when I was about fifteen; it barely lasted three hours then. But now, I couldn't care less. In a few hours, it would all be over, and I could finally sit back, change into shorts and a tanktop, choose a book out of my huge pile, and really enjoy the rest of my spring break.

"That's it. You're perfect."

I hardly recognized myself. She hadn't used as much makeup as I thought she had, but it still looked different. My eyes looked darker; my cheekbones had never looked more prominent. My lips glimmered soft pink when they caught the light. Even my hair submitted to her. She parted it on the left, and it fell softly down my bare shoulders in perfect ringlets. The hairdryer made it look shinier. I touched it carefully as I stared at my reflection in disbelief.

At the sound of her squeal, I tore my eyes away from the mirror. "Admit it, Bella. You like it."

"Actually, I do." It was… different. Not bad different, just different. I smiled at her through the mirror. "Thanks, Doreen."

I went to check on my mom before heading downstairs. She looked excited but composed, which was good because I didn't feel like handling an anxiety attack. There didn't seem to be any last minute accidents, fortunately. Her dress wasn't torn anywhere, her makeup wasn't running, and even her veil was still in the room, now resting against the bed. I smiled to myself as I helped her put it on. I'd never seen her more glamorous. She was practically glowing. I struggled to push Charlie's heartbrokenness off my mind. For one day, I'd focus on her happiness rather than on his despair, I decided. Neither of us mentioned our conversation the other night. In fact it settled itself so far at the back of my mind that at some point I wondered if it even happened at all.

With one last kiss, I left her and went downstairs. Now so close to the hour of service, the garden was packed with people, most of them unfamiliar to me. Everyone was dressed up, and the scent of perfume carried heavily in the air. Combined with the flowers, it was slightly too much. Loyal to my decision, I tried to mingle as much as I could and be the hostess everyone had expected me to be. It felt like I'd been kissed dozens of times, and shook hundreds of hands. My shoes were too tight. As soon as the service was over, I was switching them with my flip flops, I decided.

"My darling Bella."

I'd recognize that musical intonation anywhere. I spun instantly at the sound of my name. There she was, right in front of me. I meant to go see Madame Claudine on my first day back, but then I'd been thrown into the whole preparation frenzy, and by the time I fell on my bed at the end of each day, it was too late. I threw my arms around her now, breathing in her familiar fragrance. She'd been using the same French label since I started taking classes in her studio.

"How are you, dear child?" Her eyes were gleaming as she took in the sight of my dress, and reached out to smooth my hair. If it was any other person I'd shrug them off. I felt the tiniest swell of pride when she nodded ever so slightly in approval of my outfit.

"The moment this is over, I'm going to sleep for a week." I was only half joking.

She shook her head, smiling her tight smile. "How is Juilliard?"

"Juilliard is wonderful. I can't wait to get back." Which was only half true, under the circumstances, but I didn't let my mind linger on it.

"Is your ankle better?"

"Is there anyone my mom hasn't told about this?" I guessed I should have considered myself lucky she didn't tell people I was bringing someone to the wedding. Knowing her and her selective memory, she probably forgot. "My ankle's fine. It was over two months ago. It doesn't even hurt anymore."

"You should be careful when you dance," she said, touching my chin gently. "You don't want to hurt yourself."

"I won't do it again," I grimaced, shuddering inwardly when I remembered my forced confinement.

"Things are going well, other than that? Has your modern technique improved?" she chided me. She shared my dislike for modern dance, although she'd always claimed that as an artist, I should stay open-minded.

"Hardly, I'm afraid. Miss Ellen is just about to give up on me," I laughed. "I'm sure she won't fail me, but she – "

I stopped mid sentence as something over her shoulder caught my eye. I couldn't even remember what I meant to say. I couldn't remember anything. I kept staring straight ahead, trying to figure out if what I was seeing was really there, or just an excellent figment of my imagination. It had to be that. A trick of the light, if not anything else, for sure. Edward couldn't be really standing there, could he?

After the shock of recognition, blind rage was the first emotion that hit me. How dared he show up here? How dared he turn this into a public scene? Did he think that just because there were people around, I wouldn't kick him out? Because I meant to. I _would_. I could care less about all those people. I'd stride over there and do just that. I didn't want to see him ever again.

But that was a nasty lie too, just one of many others. I wanted to see him desperately.

I drank in the sight of him. It felt as if it'd been months since I'd last seen him. My memory didn't do him justice. He wore black trousers with a dark green dress shirt, no jacket, no tie. I was sure the shirt matched the color of his eyes perfectly. The sleeves were rolled just above his elbows. He looked too good to be real, so I knew he must have been an apparition. It was probably just a memory too, just more corporeal than the others. I was so upset about my dad's absence, that Edward was the best my mind could come up with as a substitution. I _needed_ him to be real. It felt as if I'd fall apart, if he wasn't really there.

"Bella?"

Madam Claudine's voice sounded very distant. My entire body was attuned to him now. I was seeing nothing else. I blinked, but he was still standing there across the lawn, staring back at me. His eyes were dark and blazing, even with the entire lawn stretched between us. The request in them was clear. And despite the fact I was still angry with him, the thought of refusing him was unbearable. I mumbled an apology and walked passed Madame Claudine, passed everyone, to where he was still standing waiting for me.

**

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A/N: Head to my profile if you want to see Bella's dress. Thanks for reading, everyone, and keep up those lovely reviews =)


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter Twenty Six – Edward**

I had never seen her more beautiful. I had to do a double take when I first noticed her just to be sure it really was her. She'd been ranting about her dress for so long that I'd expected the worse. It was closer to red than pink, definitely not the cotton candy shade I had envisioned. It hugged her body in a way none of her dance outfits could, a subtler way. Her hair, a sharp contrast to her translucent skin, tumbled down her shoulders. She looked like she'd been ripped out of a thirties film.

She was deep in conversation with a woman who was too old to be her mother. If I hadn't known she didn't have grandmothers, I'd assume this woman was one of them, because they seemed close enough. Since her posture resembled Bella's perfectly, I knew it must have been her ballet teacher. At some point in the middle of their conversation she suddenly looked up and found me standing there. I saw her lips part ever so slightly; I heard her gasp in my mind. Dozen emotions crossed her face in the fracture of second our gazes were locked on one another's. It felt as if she had been stalling forever before she lifted the train of her dress and began to walk towards me.

It was as if she moved in slow motion. My breathing all but synched itself with her footsteps. I kept my eyes on hers the entire time, just to make sure she wasn't just an apparition. Her expression became more readable as she advanced. There was confusion in her eyes, mostly that, but also irritation, and something else unidentifiable.

By the time she reached me, agitation ruled. "What are you doing here?"

I'd expected it, so it didn't take me off guard. "You invited me," I half shrugged.

Her eyes narrowed, a response to my indifference, I thought. "In case it wasn't clear enough from the past two months, that was me, _un_inviting you," she hissed, and began to walk away.

"Bella, wait," I pleaded. She stopped, and raised her eyes to mine again. There was a flicker of something there, something irritation couldn't entirely mask. Almost as if her temper was a decoy to some other emotion I couldn't quite pinpoint. She was more beautiful while standing so close; I tried not to gawk. I laughed nervously. "I flew all the way down here. I changed in the airport, I almost got a speeding ticket with my rented car, and I haven't even checked into a hotel yet. Do you really think I'd go through all this trouble if I didn't have something important to say?" I reached out and raised her chin with my finger before she managed to shrug my hand off. "I just want to talk. Please?"

Someone called her name. I swore inwardly, and let go of her chin slowly, reluctantly. She didn't look away for a second, which was a good sign, I thought. Then after a second she blinked, as if waking from a trance. "I… have to go," she stammered, and her voice was softer now. Yes, that initial fury was definitely some twisted form of self defense.

"I'll wait," I insisted, locking my gaze with hers again. She seemed slightly dazed. "As long as it takes. Okay?"

She wavered, but eventually nodded, as if she knew I wouldn't give up. She held my gaze for a moment longer before she turned to go.

"And Bella?" She turned to face me again, her expression half annoyed, half expectant. I risked a small smile. "You look beautiful."

She dropped her gaze and I could see a hint of pink on her cheeks. She stole one last glance at me from beneath her lashes, and left me there.

xoxox

I stood aside as the service began, feeling like a downright intruder. I tried not to let it show that the only person I knew here was the bride's daughter. I dreaded the thought of having to provide someone with explanations as for what I was doing there. I watched her mother as she joined her soon-to-be husband by the altar. They looked nothing alike. Bella seemed to inherit Charlie's darker looks with her mother's pallid skin. Renée's hair – shorter than Bella's – was a much lighter brown with strawberry blonde highlights. I couldn't see her eyes from where I was standing, but I remembered Bella saying they were bluish grey, which had always made me think of Emmett.

My stare refocused on Bella. It was impossible not to. Standing so farther back made me aware of people's reactions to her. No one remained indifferent to her. Even those who didn't seem to know her set their eyes on her with what seemed like appreciation. She seemed oblivious to it all. I watched, transfixed, as she took her mother's bouquet from her. The way she kissed the older woman's cheek was amazingly tender. Her eyes flickered to Phil, standing behind her mother, and tenderness shifted into reluctance, but only for a hint of a second.

Bouquet in hand, she took her seat in the front row as everyone sat down. A stranger in a peach dress squeezed her hand and whispered something in her ear. I remembered she'd said she didn't have any aunts on uncles, so I deduced it was either a distant relative, or a close friend. It seemed like such a waste of time to dwell on it though. My eyes wandered back to Bella. She sat very erect and looked straight ahead. She saw nothing but her mother as the service began.

Once again, I reveled at the luxury of watching without being watched. It was like that day I watched her dance at the studio. I was aware of her every blink, every movement, even the slightest shift of posture. Every now and then, sudden gust of wind would come and blow her hair away, revealing an inch more of her face to me. She was watching attentively, like she'd do during an important lesson she didn't want to miss. She didn't cry. She seemed perfectly composed, her hands still clutching the flowers in her lap, her fingers messing with the petals.

It was this absentminded motion that gave her away. Her expression was _too_ smooth, but the motion of her fingers exposed her restlessness. It was kind of frustrating, really. I wished I could read her mind. I wanted to believe she was forcing herself to focus on the service just to keep the thought of me off her mind. She must have known I was back here watching her. I tried to think back of our brief conversation before she'd been taken away from me. I hoped I'd managed to soften her a little. I didn't mind a fight; I'd be willing to fight for her if it would make me deserve her more. But I hated the thought of her thinking so badly of me still. I hoped she knew me better than that.

It had just dawned on me that the first time I noticed her was also during a wedding. It was nearing dusk then, and I stayed away from the dance floor, since Alice was getting more hyper with each passing second, and I knew there was a good chance she'd attempt to drag me there with her. Bella was standing across the dance floor, talking quietly to her father. They seemed happy with each other's company. He'd always kept to himself, and she didn't know anyone well enough to mingle. It was a surprisingly warm day, a rarity in Forks, and she had a pale blue sundress on. The wind blew into her hair and played with the hem of her dress. For a moment, I couldn't look away. She just… stood out, frozen in this one moment in time. Later that evening, my father mentioned she was Chief Swan's daughter, and I remembered thinking how appropriate her name had been. Bella. How perfectly fitting. She was more beautiful even than Rosalie in her bridal gown, more beautiful than anything and anyone I'd ever seen in my life.

I chuckled lowly at the irony of it. That day seemed so far away now. The present sight of her was much more concrete, replacing that ghostly image from nearly three years ago. Things seemed much different now. It was her family's event, not mine. She was here with her mother, not her father. She was wearing pink rather than blue. But at the same time, it was also painfully similar. I was still watching her from the wings. The only major difference now was that I'd had her for a little while, before the chance had been snatched away from me.

The service seemed to stretch forever. I held back a yawn. I landed literally two hours ago, after a sleepless night I'd spent at the airport. Even though I'd gone through the route with Emmett before I left, I managed to get lost twice on the way from the airport, probably due to my massive need of sleep. When I finally reached my destination, I felt incredibly disheveled among all those strange people. I was sure my hair was still a mess, and I ran a hand through it. Every now and again I'd smooth another wrinkle on my dress shirt. There was laughter in Rosalie's eyes when she had packed it for me with extra care two nights ago. _It would bring out your eyes_, she'd promised me. To her great dismay, I refused to add the blazer and tie she'd suggested. I felt overdressed as it was, and I had no intention of overdoing it.

Bella's focus seemed to be dissolving, which further betrayed the serene façade she struggled to maintain. She was fidgeting, as if she was ready to spring out of her seat as soon as the service was over. For a moment, I was panicked. What if she did escape? I knew it wasn't her house, but I assumed she knew the place well nonetheless, and better than I had, for sure. What if she disappeared before I'd have a chance to catch up with her?

My panic took over, distracting me so much that when I next blinked and realized she was watching me, I gasped in surprise. My face grew hot, but I forced myself to hold her gaze. A smile curled on her lips. It was tight, uncertain and nearly invisible, but still there. I nodded once, reminding her I was waiting. Her smile widened an inch before she looked away. My distress subsided considerably. There was still hope.

Finally, it was over. She all but flew into her mother's arms when the minister concluded the service. Her mother was crying and occasionally sniffing. Bella's expression was still collected when the two of them held each other for a long moment. Then she shook Phil's hand and submitted to a small peck he laid on her cheek. I completely lost sight of her for a while afterwards when more people came forward to congratulate the newlyweds. I stayed away, trying to give her as much privacy as possible. I didn't want my interference to have any say in her decision to listen to me.

I wandered to the bar and asked for a coke. Exhaustion was slowly taking its toll, but now was the worst time to nod off to sleep. It would have to wait, and I hoped caffeine would help to postpone all this weariness that seemed to be crashing on me. I caught Bella's eye and tossed my drink in the air, wiggling my eyebrow at her. It gained me a slightly wider smile, but the uncertainty was there in her every stare. She shook her head and turned away from me. I didn't resent her for keeping her distance. She had her responsibilities here, and I didn't mean to stand in her way.

This was when I noticed the woman in peach casting glances in my direction. Obviously catching the wordless exchange between Bella and me, her gaze now wandered between us. Bella, the horrible liar that she was, didn't do such a good job in pretending I wasn't there. She was clearly very aware of my presence, even while looking away. When the lady in peach tried to corner her, Bella shook her head, probably refusing to answer any questions. The blush in her cheeks – visible even from this distance – must have given her away. The woman smiled to herself as she walked the other way. I followed her with my eyes as she made her way through the crowd, already guessing where she was headed with such urgency. It took her a while before she spotted Bella's mother. I looked away as soon as their eyes darted in my direction again. I sensed their inquiring stares piercing my back.

I could feel that rush of panic again, swelling in the pit of my stomach. Okay, so someone noticed I was here. It wasn't a big deal. I'd prepared myself for this possibility. It was a public event, and someone was bound to notice sooner or later. It was my luck that this someone was Bella's mother, the only one who probably knew more of this story than I wished her to. She seemed like a lovely woman, but I knew enough of the bond she and her daughter shared. I'd seen it with my own eyes. And she wouldn't skip a chance to kick my ass for breaking her daughter's heart. I looked around frantically, considering my ways of escape. Coming here was a stupid idea. I should have never listened to Emmett and Alice.

Someone touched my arm. I spun instantly, fearing the worse, but it was just Bella. Her fingers merely fluttered against my elbow, but it made my skin tingle nonetheless. I meant to express my relief when I caught sight of her eyes. They were frantic. "I'll say this in the nicest way I can," she told me, and I pretended to detect a quiver in her voice. "You have to go."

The idea was tempting about a minute ago, but now that she brought it up, suddenly it didn't seem appealing anymore. "Why?"

"Because my mom's best friend is trying to interrogate me about who are you and why are you here, and she just found my mom, which means it's going to get worse." She looked up at me, and there was something softer in her stare now, something I remembered from long ago. "We do need to talk, but I don't want to do this here. I don't mind giving you the address to my place and I'll meet you there later, but…" She glanced over her shoulder, then back at me. There was clear pleading in her eyes. "I'm not in the mood to answer any questions right now. Please?"

I wasn't offended, but I didn't want to go, either. She seemed sincere when she admitted we needed to talk, but what if it was another trick? What if she gave me her address and never showed up? I gave her my own pleading look, as earnest as her own. I kept my eyes on hers until I detected that familiar incoherency in her gaze. "Aren't you the least curious about why I'm here?"

"I _know_ why you're here," she replied tersely, and there was a hint of annoyance in her voice now. "You're going to try and convince me it was all a huge misunderstanding." She looked back again, then at me, almost desperate now. "I can't _do_ this right now."

I grabbed her hand with slightly more force than I'd intended to. She pulled it back with a gasp, staring up at me wide-eyed. Her breathing became erratic, so I knew it meant her heartbeat was soaring. Although she looked irritated, I still thought it was a good sign. "I said I'd wait and I would. Take all the time you need. But I'm not leaving."

She bit her lip, but didn't repeat her demand I'd go. Her indecision gave me hope. She didn't want to answer her mother's questions, but she seemed reluctant to let me go, too. She sighed, looking torn. "I don't feel comfortable with this."

"Bella, honey?"

The sudden interruption made both of us tear our gazes from one another's. Bella's mother was approaching us, her eyes wandering from her daughter to me with genuine curiosity. The glint in her bright eyes was familiar. There was something strangely comforting about this fact. The color in Bella's cheeks deepened. She looked frightened.

Renée's smile was uncertain when her eyes met mine. "Hello," she said, bringing her attention back to Bella. She shrunk beneath her mother's inquiring gaze. "Who is this?"

Bella glared at me, but her eyes softened as soon as they met her mother's. "That's Edward Cullen," she muttered, clearly unwilling to make introductions. "Edward, that's my mom."

She recognized my name, I could easily tell as much. But the slightest shadow crossed her kind expression as she seemed to catch up on Bella's tone. I cringed inwardly, and couldn't help wondering just how much she knew. And then against my fears, she smiled at me. "It's so nice of you to come," she said, shaking my hand. Her grip was firm, warm, but most of all, not hostile. I allowed myself to breathe again. "Bella said you wouldn't – "

"I didn't know he was coming," Bella pointed out, still in a hiss. She scowled at me as our eyes met again. "But he's just leaving."

A protest rose halfway up my throat. I couldn't just walk away now. I wouldn't. I had a feeling that if I did, I'd never get her back. And I didn't get this far just to head back now.

Fortunately, I wasn't the only one thinking that. Her mother looked straight at me, offended by the very idea of me leaving so soon. "What? Why? Surely you can stay a little longer."

"_Mom_," Bella hissed through her teeth.

Renée shook her head, oblivious to her daughter's distress. Or wasn't she…? "You _have_ to stay," she determined. "I insist. The party's just starting! Now if you'll excuse me, kids, I think Doreen needs me."

Bella turned her back on me then and tried to say something to her mother, probably to protest against her intervention. Renée wouldn't listen. She shook her head in dismissal of a protest I didn't hear. She kissed Bella's forehead, tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, mouthed 'I love you', and then she was gone. Bella huffed, exasperated, and turned to face me.

"I hope you're happy about all this," she snapped. Her tone was unusually vicious. Her eyes flared. I tried not to let her hostility get to me.

"I am, if it means I have your attention now."

"_Ugh_! Fine! Go ahead. Speak. But I warn you, you're not up for an easy start after the trick you've just pulled off."

"I didn't do anything," I shrugged in feign innocence. "Your mom asked me to stay."

"Hmph!"

I laughed. I couldn't help it. She was so funny when she tried to appear furious.

Despite her act, she followed me without protest to the gazebo where the service had previously taken place, where most of the guests didn't seem to wander about now. I waited until she sat down before I took a seat beside her. The stone bench was smooth and very cold. I held back another yawn. I couldn't believe how tired I was. I hoped it wouldn't distract me from what I was going to say. She was still sour-faced and jeering, but she didn't say anything. There was clear expectancy beyond all that rage. She sat there and watched me, looking distractedly beautiful in her pink dress.

"You already know what I came here to say," I started, bracing myself for her livid agreement and possible attack, but it never came. "You believe I had something to do with Alice's plan to get us together. You think I fooled you from the beginning, that I lied to you."

"You could have spared yourself the trip since you obviously know it all so well," she retorted, rolling her eyes.

"I wasn't lying to you." I didn't mean to cut her off so abruptly, but I couldn't hold it back any longer. "You convinced yourself that I did, but you didn't even look at the facts, you didn't even hear my side of this. You can't really judge me fairly until you hear my side."

Her eyes narrowed. Her anger didn't seem like a decoy anymore. "I _know_ your side."

"_No_, you don't! It's easier to believe I had a part in this. What are you so afraid of? Why won't you talk to me? Because you're scared my version will prove you wrong?"

"No," she whispered, and quickly looked away. "Because I'm afraid you'll tell me exactly what I already know."

"Bella," I sighed. Even saying her name was painful. "We need to work this out. We've been dancing around this issue for two months now. I'm not leaving until you'll at least listen to everything I have to say. You don't have to say anything. Just listen."

She stalled for a long moment, but eventually nodded. I ignored the reluctance that came with the motion. I was set on saying everything anyway.

"You already know I saw you in Emmett's wedding. What I didn't know until two months ago was that Alice saw you too. Or rather, saw me watching you." I winced. It was an embarrassing confession to make, even though I knew she got Alice's version of this story, so this wasn't news for her.

She sighed, and for a moment she didn't look so angry anymore, just contemplative. "We could have saved all this mess if only you said something to me that day."

I smiled sadly. If only's were nice, in theory. "Would you have listened? Isn't it the summer you started seeing Jacob?" She nodded, despite of herself, it seemed. "I was seeing someone back then anyway. Things weren't going so well, and we broke up a little while afterwards, but I was still with her. Besides…" I paused and looked at her carefully. "I think it's like you said. We were meant to be together now. In this time, in this place. Maybe we had to undergo certain experiences to deserve each other now."

She shook her head. "I don't know if I believe that anymore."

"Believe this." I slid closer to her and held her face between my palms. I wanted to kiss her so badly, but I thought I'd better not. It didn't feel quite safe yet. But I wanted to make sure I had her full attention. "I love you. A part of me loved you since that day at the wedding. When I saw you in that audition, and later in class, I felt like I've been given a second chance."

"Is this what you're asking of me now? A second chance?"

"No. Yes. Maybe." I sighed. I held her more gently now. Her cheeks felt warm beneath my palms. "If you don't want to be with me, that's okay. If this is what you choose, I'll walk away. But don't do it from the wrong reasons, Bella. I've never lied to you. Know that, at least."

"How does not telling my about your family fit into this pattern?"

"I see why you'd think it links me with Alice. I wasn't lying to you though. I didn't tell you about them because I was afraid it would scare you away, and I was right. It did." I smiled bitterly. "But my intention… it wasn't because I wanted to hide things from you. I thought I was protecting you – us."

She didn't have a retort for that. I slowly let go of her face. I thought I saw her wince.

"I never imagined things would come to that. I thought we were better than this. I thought you knew me well enough to trust me. I never meant to hurt you."

But even that hadn't come up as I planned. She still looked wounded, even now. I could see it in her stare when she lifted her eyes to mine. "Why are you here today?"

"Because I realized my brother was right. I couldn't just sit there and watch you slip away from me. Working things out is better than stupid grudges."

Her eyes narrowed. "Is that what you think it is? A stupid grudge?"

I hadn't considered her getting it all wrong. "No. I've recently learned what it feels like to be in the center of Alice's scheme and yes, you have every right to be upset. But maybe there's more you can do."

"Like what?"

"Be honest with yourself. Why would I go through all this trouble in the first place if all I wanted was to trick you? Why would I bother? Do you really think I'd make love to you if I didn't… if you weren't…" I stopped and sighed. Fatigue was overwhelming, and I wasn't doing a very good job. I took a deep breath and reached for her hand. She didn't try to pull back this time. "Bella, there can't be anyone else. There will _never_ be anyone else." I paused, letting it sink in. Her expression remained blank, revealing nothing. "I won't resent you if you still hate me, especially after what happened there earlier," I looked over my shoulder at what had now become a dance floor. "I just wanted you to know how I feel."

She was silent for a long moment. I noticed she still hadn't shrugged my hand off. When she finally met my eyes, she looked kind of helpless, as defenseless as a child. "Why would I believe you?"

I squeezed her hand and a small smile escaped me. "Because deep down, I think you already know." I let go of her hand and gently placed it in her lap. "I'm going to go now," I said, standing up. She didn't follow, just looked up at me. "I'll give you some time to think about what I said. My flight back is not until tomorrow afternoon. Even if it's a 'no'… I'd like to know what you decided." My voice failed me towards the end, because it had dawned on me I hadn't prepared myself for the possibility of her saying no.

I shook my head. I wouldn't think about it now. I knelt in front of her and took her hand again. She followed me with her eyes as I raised her hand to my lips and pressed a kiss to her palm. "I'll wait for your call," I said with much more confidence than I actually felt. With that I stood back up, turned my back on her, and left, struggling not to look back.

xoxox

Night had fallen by the time I found my hotel and checked in. I retrieved my cell phone, up until then stuffed in the front pocket of my overnight bag. As I guessed, I had about a dozen text messages from home, and a few more voice messages. I sniggered. This was just the reason I preferred to avoid it throughout the day. I placed it back while I went to take a shower. The enormity of the day was beginning to pull me under. I just wanted to change into something more comfortable and lie flat on that bed that looked inviting.

Three times I raced out of the shower because I thought I heard my phone ring. Three times it showed I didn't have unanswered calls. I tried not to let it discourage me. Either way, she was going to call. She wouldn't do anything as long as the wedding was still going on. She'd want to attend to her mother. She wouldn't want to disappear again.

I tried to guess what her decision would be, but I found myself unable to. I knew she must be mad at me for coming unnoticed and making her confront her mother, but she didn't kick me out like she could have done. She let me speak until I was through. If she wasn't willing to listen, she could just cut me off. I had no doubt that she would. Then again on the other end were her cold glares, her attempted temper, her clear reluctance to have me there. Those shook my confidence a little. I laid back and tried to prepare myself for the blow of rejection, just in case.

The sound of an incoming call pierced the silence in the room. I all but launched myself at the phone, only to laugh at my enthusiasm a second later when I saw the familiar number. I rolled my eyes and accepted the call. "What do you want, Emmett?"

"Whoa, chill, dude. I'm merely calling as the representative of the family. We want to know what's going on, since you've been screening us all day."

"Nothing is going on. I'm waiting."

"You're still there, dude?"

"No, I'm back at the hotel. I, umm, gave her a sort of a deadline. I'm waiting for her to call."

He let out a whistle. "The jury went out to discuss the verdict, eh?"

"I'm glad the situation amuses you," I replied dryly. "I promise to keep you up-to-date, so you don't have to waste any sleep on it, okay? I'll call you if there's any news."

"Make sure to do that," he chided me. I heard muffled voices in the background. I squinted, but they were too low to make out. Then he was back, laughing. "Everyone here is cheering you on, so don't despair, little bro!"

"Thanks, Emmett, good night."

I was still smiling to myself when I hung up. It felt weird to share things with them, but good weird. It was nice to know I still had their support. It was comforting rather than intimidating now. They could easily shut me off after everything. I was glad it didn't happen. I still owed them so much, especially my parents and my grandfather who'd done everything in their power to get me on a flight here. I hoped everything would go well. I owed them this happy ending more than I owed it to myself.

With nothing else to do but wait, I struggled to relax. Stress wouldn't help things. I sank into the soft pillows and breathed in their clean, generic scent. It was so easy to close my eyes and fall asleep. I was so tired. My eyelids began to droop on their own accord. I didn't even pull the covers on top of me. I closed my eyes. Only for a few minutes, I told myself.

I must have been dozing off, because the next time my cell phone rang, it startled me into wakefulness. I picked it up with shaky hands. I was extremely disoriented. For a second I didn't even know where I was. But then it quickly sank in. I held the phone in front of me. I didn't recognize the number, but I knew it was local. I could feel my heart hammering against my chest when I accepted her call.

"Bella?"


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter Twenty Seven – Bella**

**Three months later**

It had always felt strange to be back in Forks, but this summer it felt stranger than normally. Things were so different, starting with the fact I'd lost two weeks of my summer vacation already. I had to spend more time in Arizona in order to help mom and Phil with the packing. They were about to go on the road for a while, and hopefully settle in Jacksonville later on in the journey. I wasn't going to join them. It was weird to make this decision. The time I'd spent in New York City had taught me a thing or two about independence, almost as if it had meant to prepare me for this choice.

Instead of roaming the roads with my mom and her husband, I was coming to live with Charlie in Forks. The thought alone made me laugh at myself. A few months ago, spending time there indefinitely was my worst nightmare. Now it held certain promises that had not been there before. Leaving Phoenix was less painful than I thought. There wasn't a lot I was leaving behind. I'd miss the desert and the sun. I'd miss Madame Claudine terribly, but I already promised myself and her we'd stay in touch. Our bond was stronger than geography.

Most of my stuff was sent ahead of me in the two weeks I'd been in Phoenix. Some of it would stay with my dad in September; some would come back to New York with me. It was still inconceivable to think I'd start my second year in Juilliard then. It was as if only yesterday I got here dreading the auditions' results. The terror of not fitting in was still fresh and burning as if it hadn't been nearly a year since then. I knew better now. And even though I couldn't wait for the summer break to begin, I was looking forward to September, when I would see my friends again. I already got one postcard from Anya. She was spending the summer in Russia, visiting her grandparents. We promised we would stay in touch and swap as many postcards as possible. So far, it worked. I hoped we'd be able to keep it up until September.

When it was time for me to head to Forks, I only had one suitcase to take with me. Charlie insisted on carrying it when he met me at the airport. "I can handle one suitcase just fine, Dad," I protested when he shoved me away unceremoniously.

"Don't be ridiculous, Bells. I got it," he scoffed, but couldn't hide the fact he was wheezing after he stuffed it in the trunk.

"I bet you already hurt your back with all those boxes I sent over."

"You could send some of those books to storage and those boxes were less heavy."

I laughed. "Not a chance, Dad. Those books travel everywhere with me. Thanks for getting them in my room though."

He drove slowly although there was only light drizzle. The silence between us was comfortable. Neither of us was a great talker. Besides, we spoke so much on the phone recently; it felt as if there was very little left unsaid. "Your hair got longer," he commented, glancing at me for a second before he turned his attention back to the road.

"Oh," I said, picking up a strand that fell against my coat. "Could be."

"So, umm, are you planning to visit Jacob at all this summer?"

I expected it, but not so directly, and surely not merely ten minutes into my visit. "I don't know, Dad. It might be awkward now."

"Doesn't have to be awkward at all," he muttered, staring straight ahead.

I rolled my eyes. "Hello, boyfriend?"

He cast a side glance at me. "What, isn't the boyfriend up for some healthy competition?"

I chose to ignore the hint of mockery his question carried. "There's no competition, Dad. Besides, just for fairness sake, I don't know how much Jacob actually told you, but _he_ cheated on _me_, technically. I wish you didn't force me to get so petty, but that's how things are, and as my dad, you should really be on _my_ side."

"Give him a break, Bella. The kid is young and impulsive."

"He's only a year younger than me!"

"You've always been mature for your age."

I groaned. He had an answer for everything.

Charlie's reaction to this whole boyfriend issue caught me off guard, because I really thought he would be supportive. Unfortunately, he didn't try to hide his preference, which meant he was still pinning for me and Jacob getting back together, no matter how many times I'd explained it wasn't going to happen. It didn't help that Renée was so in favor of my new boyfriend over my old one, even after she discovered where he lived. It was because she got a chance to see him, she said. I suspected it was because a part of her wanted to get back at Charlie for preferring his best friend's son.

I pressed my legs up against my chest and leaned my head against my knees. My dad scoffed; he didn't like it when I sat like that while he was driving. I pretended not to notice, and focused my eyes on the window. I couldn't help but smile when I thought about the next day. It was supposed to be one of the warmest days Forks had ever known, and I'd been counting on it. I tried not to linger on the fact it would be the first time I'd meet his brother and sister-in-law and just focus on the more important – and definitely less stressing – issues. It felt as if forever had passed since I'd seen him. Those two weeks apart were almost unbearable after all this time we'd spent together in the past three months. Even if it rained, tomorrow _would_ be perfect, because I'd finally be with him again.

I never regretted getting back together with him after he showed up in my mother's wedding last April. There was really no other option, no other way. As reluctant as I was to admit it, Alice had been right all along. There really was destiny. And Edward Cullen was mine.

When we were back in school, there was no point to hide anymore. Forgiving Alice clearly was part of the deal, especially when I learned it was her idea he'd come over to Phoenix. It went without saying she was thrilled when we called her with the news. She squealed for ten minutes straight before she was even able to tell me how happy she'd been he'd managed to talk some sense into me. Honestly, I was happy too. Who knew what would have happened if he didn't take his cousin's advice.

I tried not to feel threatened or frightened by the intensity of our relationship, but it was always there at the back of my mind, especially during the first weeks after we got back together. Getting this fear under control was a process of constant learning. I'd been learning it still. Overall, I simply considered us luckier than others. When he told me so many months ago it couldn't be anyone else, it was as if he'd read my mind.

When the idea of moving in together came about, it didn't feel awkward because we hadn't been together for that long. It felt like the necessary next step. In May Edward learned that his sister-in-law's contract in Los Angeles had been extended for another year, and asked their permission I'd move in with him. He said it shouldn't be a problem to get an okay for me to move out of the halls. My mom was surprisingly supportive about the whole thing. Charlie didn't know yet, and the coward that I'd been, I took my time with breaking this to him. Considering the way he took my news about Edward in the first place, it was obvious Charlie would be difficult about this particular piece of news.

"So when are you seeing him?"

It kind of annoyed me he didn't use the name, not to mention the disgusted way in which he sort of spat the word, but I decided I didn't want to argue on my first day back. "Tomorrow morning."

He made a sound that sounded closest to "Hmph", which I didn't question. There was certain finality to the sound, so I kept my gaze ahead and said nothing more for the rest of the drive.

When we got home, Charlie left me alone to get organized. I heard the stairs creak as he made his way downstairs to order some pizza for dinner. I looked around the room. It was smaller than the one in my mother's house, and slightly bigger than the one in New York. It was strange to think I'd had three homes now, whereas a normal kid usually had one. My dad kept most of the boxes in one corner of the room, as if he let me decide what to do with them. I decided to leave it for the weekend. I only unpacked the essentials, like some of my clothes and shoes and my ballet slippers. I ran my fingers over the worn out satin with a smile.

My old poster was still above the bed. Charlie found it on a garage sale a few years ago and got it for me. I always thought it was kind of sweet to him, this momentary decision that was so unlike him. My old notice board was like a visual representation of the drastic change my life had undergone in the past year. A sad smile replaced the happier one at the sight of a picture of me and Jacob. I completely forgot this picture being taken last summer. I decided against taking it off. We were still friends, or so I hoped. I hadn't heard from Jake for months, and I still debated whether or not I should call him. He must have known I was coming here to stay. Charlie must have said something.

I brought new photos to stick on my board, of the new people in my life. I stuck them in the empty spaces until my board was in perfect disarray. Me and Edward, Alice and Jasper, Anya, Alice and me, my ballet class in our last lesson of the year, a wedding picture of my mom and Phil. I was surprised when I got them all to fit.

I yawned. Flying to Forks had always been exhausting. I needed a shower desperately, but first things first. I retrieved my cell phone from my backpack and sprawled on my bed. The sheets smelt of flowers and cleanliness. Charlie had always made the bed himself upon my arrival, which was very sweet of him in an odd kind of way.

_Stop sitting by the phone. I'm here_, I typed and hit 'send'. I smiled to myself. Having a cell phone wasn't as bad as I thought. And I was getting better at texting at the speed of light. It was kind of fun, actually.

He was still faster than me despite his claim to be technologically challenged. _Welcome home. _I could almost picture him smiling as he typed it in. I wanted to say more, but I knew the pizza guy would be here soon and I still hadn't taken my shower.

I took the phone with me when I came down to dinner. My dad raised an eyebrow when he noticed it, but fortunately didn't comment. We kept conversation shallow, going in circles around the issue he thought we should talk about, the issue I tried hard to avoid. I wished he would just get off my back with the Jacob thing. I wished he wouldn't blame me for it, as if it was only my fault.

I knew what I had to talk about, what had to be said. I also knew that the more I'd stall, the worse it would be. I cleared my throat, telling myself it was now or never. And then, when I was finally ready to speak, my phone went off with a loud beep. I started, nearly dropping it to the hard wooden floor. I thought I heard Charlie snigger when I opened it with shaky fingers.

_I heard you're home – can't wait for tomorrow – SO EXCITED!!!!!_

I chuckled. I could almost hear her enthusiastic exclamations in my head. Upon looking up, I realized Charlie was watching me inquiringly, a shadow of a smile still visible in the corners of his lips. "My roommate," I explained.

"You can drive to Seattle to visit her during the break," he suggested.

"Yeah, that's a good idea," I agreed absentmindedly. I didn't mention I'd be seeing her the next day. He seemed to enjoy my stories about Alice, but I suspected he would like her much less knowing she was related in any way to Edward.

"Are you two rooming together next year too?"

I nearly choked on my pizza at his question. There it was, my perfect chance. I couldn't mess it up. "Umm, no, actually. We aren't."

He eyed me curiously. "I thought you were getting along with this girl."

"I was. I am. It's not what I meant. I'm, uh, moving out of the halls." He didn't say anything, but the way he let go of the paper made my heartbeat quicken. A thick lump was forming down my throat. Fear, or nerves, or both. "Don't freak out, okay? And _please_ remember I'm turning twenty in a couple of months."

He kept his eyes on mine, his smile all gone. "Why do I get the distinct feeling I'm not going to like what you have to say?"

I ignored the question, because I didn't really think he had expected me to answer. "Well, I… kind of hope you'll show support." I laughed nervously, but held his gaze. "I'm moving in with Edward."

His face turned red, then a strange shade of purple. "Over my dead body you are!"

"I'm not asking, Dad, things are kind of settled," I said quietly, hating myself even more for keeping it away from him for so long.

"You _should_ have asked!"

"Did I miss anything, or did you really say earlier I've always been mature for my age?" He sort of hung his head as if he knew he fell into his own trap. "I'm not a child, Dad. I know what I'm doing."

"Do you, now?" The question was bitter, but not angry.

"I'm just moving in with him, Dad, I'm not eloping with him!"

"It's close enough," he grumbled.

"Would you have been happier if I told you I was going to marry him in the fall?" I challenged, but my own words gave me chills. "Have some perspective, Dad. You and Mom got married when you were, what, two years older than me? That's not what I'm doing."

I could see the hint of understanding when I mentioned that example, because both of them constantly lectured me how I should learn from that mistake. But his eyes were still narrow when he looked up at me. "You can barely afford tuition. How the hell are you going to afford rent in New York City?"

"It's his brother's place. He'll be in Los Angeles for the year."

He didn't seem to have a backfire or a contradiction to that. I saw a flicker of surrender in his eyes. "Fine," he griped eventually. "Go ahead and move in with him."

He hid behind his paper then, and I slumped into my seat. The pizza suddenly became tasteless. Somehow telling him the truth wasn't as liberating as I hoped it would be.

My room felt empty and bare that night. It started raining on some point of the evening, and it didn't cease when I got ready for bed. I grimaced at the sky. I'd better be sunny by tomorrow, I thought when I got to bed. I knew what was missing, _who_ was missing. After the way the conversation with my dad went, there was nothing I wanted but hear his voice, in any form. My hand slid along my bedside until I found what I'd been looking for. I got my phone and threw the covers over my head. The faint light from the screen glowed in a strange bluish color in my handmade tent. _I wish you were here with me_.

I closed my eyes and waited. It didn't take long before I felt the phone vibrate on the pillow next to me. _Tomorrow's not long now_.

_I can't wait_. I really couldn't. If there was a way to rush time, I would.

_Me neither. I love you. Sleep well_.

But I hardly slept at all that night. It was partly the excitement, partly the howling wind. I drifted in and out of sleep throughout the night, but nothing that came close to actual rest. I thought I heard my dad getting ready for work when my eyelids were finally drooping. Last night he mentioned he was heading to the station early to finish some paperwork before he'd drive to La Push to go out fishing with Billy, Jacob's dad. He still looked kind of hopeful I'd join them, but as he knew, I already had plans.

Giving up on sleep altogether, I jumped out of bed as soon as I heard his cruiser leaving the driveway. I thought I could skip my daily run just this one time. I made a big deal out of washing and drying my hair. I chose my outfit with extra care despite my limited options. A brief glance at the window told me what I'd already known. This day wouldn't risk being less than perfect. The sunbeams were coming through the soft feather clouds. I knew that warm weather in Forks was still colder than any normal place, so I picked out jeans and a pretty lavender blouse Alice and I found at the flee market about a month ago. I left my hair down and thought that it did look longer these days like Charlie pointed out the day before. When I was ready, I stalked my window. It had the best view to the street, and I could see any car that came from around the corner.

I didn't know what he was driving, and it had only dawned on me that all these months it had never occurred to me to ask. But when at exactly eight minutes after ten a silver Volvo drove into our street, I instantly knew it was his. It wasn't enough time to grab my bag and jacket, race down the stairs and lock the door, but I still hoped I'd beat him to the door. And surprisingly enough, I did. He just shut the car door behind him when I hopped over the front steps and threw myself at him. He laughed as he toppled backwards, taking me with him. He balanced us just a second before we crashed into his car, still laughing. His arms wound around me when our eyes finally met. I sighed. I felt whole again.

"You're late," I pointed out, rubbing my nose with his.

"You're gorgeous," he whispered before he pulled me in for a kiss. It was good we were leaning against his car. Any sort of balance was good with that sudden weakness in my knees. The vastness of our separation hadn't dawned on me until our lips met. He kissed me slowly, lazily, taking his time. I threaded my fingers in his hair to hold him in place, although there really wasn't a risk of him going anywhere. He kept one hand around me and let the other one wander to my face. The trail his fingers made left my skin tingling. In my hazy state of mind, I thought how fortunate it was Charlie had taken off already. This was _not_ something he would have been happy to stumble upon.

I realized it was quieter than I expected, if we were supposed to have an audience. Surely Alice should have attacked me by now. I pulled away when the thought occurred to me. "Where is everyone?" I murmured. I kept my arms around his neck. His breath was warm against my skin, a sharp contrast to the air which, I now noticed, was chilly. I shivered despite of myself.

"We're meeting them at the beach," he replied, holding me tighter as if he felt my shudder. I cuddled against his coat. "Alice showed up at the house at seven. She wanted to drive straight here but I told her to let you sleep."

"You should have come," I said, pressing my finger to his chest. "I wasn't sleeping."

His features creased in concern. "Why not?"

"I couldn't sleep."

The cutest grin curled on his lips. "Me neither." His hand at the back of my neck pressed me closer as our lips met briefly once more. "I'd better apologize in advance for my brother. There's no excuse for him. Try to remember that."

I laughed nervously. I was beginning to regret submitting myself into this, but I thought it wouldn't be a big deal. He was reluctant when he told me about Alice's idea to spend the day on the beach, and I dismissed it at the time, thinking it could be fun. But now I was beginning to understand his anxiety as I felt it myself. At least his parents weren't coming. I didn't know what I would have done if I had to meet his parents today. I wasn't quite ready for that step yet.

The drive to the beach was too short. I told him about my conversation with Charlie the other night, but didn't elaborate, because there really wasn't much to say. We had a lot to catch up on in the two weeks we'd been apart, and we hardly got to cover anything. There was something so surreal about driving to the beach with him. I'd spent so much time there during my summers in Forks, and never once had our paths come to cross. It was strange when the ocean revealed itself to us around the next bend. It was an odd feeling to be here, to what I'd always considered Jacob's domain.

We parked right next to a monstrous-looking jeep on the top of the cliff. I could see them now; three figures who looked incredibly small from up here, and a smaller one, which I knew had to be their dog. I giggled in surprise. I didn't know she was coming. Edward rushed forward to get to the car door before me. I rolled my eyes at him and leaned against the car so he could kiss me again. To my dismay, he cut this kiss short. My discontented huff had no impact on him. "Believe me, you don't want my brother to see this."

"Fine," I mock-grumbled, but kept my arms against his chest. "You owe me. And don't think I'll forget it."

"I was sort of counting on it you'd remember," he said, smiling sheepishly. There was this glimmer in his eyes. For a second, I was unable to look away. I inched closer, meaning to bring my lips to his ear and whisper I didn't mind about his brother seeing us, only to jump back with a start a second later at the sound of my name.

"_Bella!_"

The yelp echoed across the bay. I tore my eyes from Edward's. He rolled his eyes and waved at one small figure that bounced in place and waved back at us. The two other figures followed her with their eyes until they found us. I kind of wished I could see their faced, but it was impossible from up here. I settled into Edward's embrace as we began our decent to the beach.

Alice met us halfway and launched herself at me, forcing Edward aside. "Oh my God, two weeks are the _longest_ time, I can't believe it's been so long – look at you! You look _stunning_! What did you do with your hair?"

"Breathe, Alice," I laughed, somehow untangling myself from her choking embrace.

"Breathing is _so_ overrated!" she protested, but sucked in a huge breath nonetheless. "This is going to be the best summer _ever_! We're going to spend _so_ much time together! I actually made a list of all the places we could…"

The others caught up with us by now. I kind of remembered them, I realized. Emmett was bigger than I remembered, and his toothy grin was contagious and kind of soothing, a defiance to his giant-like form. His wife Rosalie was so graceful I felt ugly and clumsy in comparison. On a first glance they looked like the oddest, most mismatched couple on the planet, but I'd known better from Edward's stories. But before I could say anything to either of them I felt something pounce at my knees. I yelped and held on to Edward's arm for support. It took me a second to realize what it was.

"Yes, okay, Sophie, go ahead, say hi to her first," Emmett said as I dropped to my knees and let their dog lick my nose. Her breathing was heavy and enthusiastic as she sort of danced around me. She was _cute_, and more hyper than Alice on a good day. No wonder my dad was so smitten with her.

"That's enough, Sophie," Edward, suddenly on his knees next to me, laughed softly as he somehow got hold on his erratic dog. He mouthed 'sorry' to me as he gripped her leash tighter. I smiled in wordless acceptance of his apology. His reply was one of his crooked smiles I'd missed.

"And so the swan fell in love with the dog," a voice muttered from above our heads, ruining our little moment.

I heard Edward groan. "Bella, this tactless man happens to be my brother. But don't ask me how it happened."

"You _know_ how it happened, butthead. The birds and the bees and…" his brother let his voice trail suggestively. He wiggled his eyebrow as we straightened up. Then he smiled at me. "I'm Emmett. And he's lucky to have me." I shook his hand. His grip was confident but gentle. Then something in his eyes changed when they met Edward's gaze. "Dude, she's pretty. In a bookish sort of way, of course." He was grinning hugely, and his smile got impossibly wider as he glanced at me. Probably because I was blushing. "This is going to be fun."

"Leave her alone, Emmett," Edward laughed, unaffected. He wrapped one arm around my waist, a motion that didn't go amiss by his older brother. "This is Rosalie."

"Please ignore my husband. He's nice and normal, usually." She even had a pretty laughter. I tried not to wince when I shook her hand. "It's so nice to finally meet you."

"Likewise," I murmured, feeling inferior compared with her glorious beauty.

When none of us wanted to join Emmett for a run, he called us lazy asses and dragged Sophie along with him. She was more than reluctant, but she didn't seem to have a choice but follow him. I watched, amused, as he dragged her along with him. He had to slow his pace to match hers, and hers wasn't running per-se. More like trotting, and a slow one at that. It was entertaining to watch, nonetheless. All the while, we spoke about New York, and Juilliard, and our plans for next year. It was nice and comfortable in a surprising kind of way. I wasn't expecting to feel so at ease in the company of glamorous Rosalie.

We sat by the boulders and ate our lunch. Emmett was in favor of a barbeque, but they feared it would rain, so they brought amazing chicken sandwiches instead. Sophie settled herself close to Emmett, who was feeding her chicken from what seemed like her own lunch box. They even had a small water bawl for her and everything. I'd never seen a dog more spoilt than this one.

I tried to ignore Emmett's constant eye-rolling when I settled on Edward's lap. After those two weeks apart, I didn't want to stay away from him for one minute. He didn't seem to mind. His long fingers traced lines along my arm or played with my hair. Across from us, Emmett made gagging sounds.

"Dude! Not while we're eating!"

Edward's face was smooth, nearly expressionless. "Funny. I don't remember protesting when you and Rose are at it."

"He's right," Alice said, tossing her soda in Emmett's direction. There was a hint of sadness in her eyes, and I knew it was because she missed Jasper.

"So Bella, I hear cooking is one of your many talents," said Emmett. I was amazed at how everything he'd said so far had some sort of a sexual hint in it. The shadow of a smile that crossed Edward's features told me he was thinking the same thing. "I was told your lasagna beats my mom's, and that's a tough thing to achieve, you know."

"So I've heard," I replied, and my face warmed at the secret smile that passed between Edward and me. I remembered the first night he'd paid me this compliment. I pressed my back tighter against his chest.

"You don't know me yet, but I don't just believe everything I'm being told." The other three snorted at that, as if they knew better. He didn't mind them. "I won't believe you're a good cook until I taste it myself."

"You're embarrassing your brother," Rosalie chided him, and threw a glance at me. "No wonder he kept her hidden for so long."

"Hey! Is this a private party or is there any food left for us?"

The unfamiliar raspy voice surprised me, and my gaze follow those of the rest. My jaw nearly dropped. I hadn't seen the La Push boys in ages. They looked as if they'd grown overnight. They were as big as Emmett. Emmett jumped to his feet to greet them, and for a moment they were all hollering and smacking each other's backs like the old friends that they were. There were about four or five of them, I estimated. It was hard to tell, with the way they moved and spoke all at the same time, as if they were one.

I felt Edward tense behind me. I was about to turn and question it, when I heard my name being called in a different voice than his.

"_Bella_?"

It happened so fast; I didn't even have a chance to be embarrassed. All those weeks of concern and now he was there, staring at me, and I still had no idea how to tell him that last piece of news I kept hidden from him. It was a silly reaction on my side. He probably knew it all from Charlie by now. Besides, I had nothing to apologize for, no reason to defend myself. I hadn't cheated. Either way, he seemed to have figured it all out. He flinched ever so slightly as his eyes darted from me to Edward, and back to me. He missed nothing, not the way I was leaning against him, or the way he touched me.

My throat felt dry beneath his gaze that was nearly blaming now. The sensation of my heart hammering against my chest made me ashamed, knowing Edward could probably feel it too. There was so much I felt needed to say. I didn't mean to ask his forgiveness, just to explain. But when I tried to speak, nothing came out by his name in a broken whisper.

"Jacob."


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: I hate it when the site misbehaves. I hope the alerts are back and working now. Here's today's installment. Also, for those of you who missed it, I posted an outtake from the story a couple of days ago. It's called **_**The Right Choice**_** and you can find it in my profile. **

**On a different note, I don't think there'll be another update before Christmas, and so – happy holidays, everyone. All I want for Christmas are lots and lots of reviews ;)**

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Chapter Twenty Eight – Edward

I noticed him before she did. He was standing behind his friends, and they'd become so similar over the years that it was nearly impossible to tell them apart. From the corner of my eye I could tell that Alice had noticed him too. Her posture changed ever so slightly; she sat a little more erect now. Her dark eyes settled on him, and then flickered to mine with what seemed like concern.

Everything was going so well until then. Emmett seemed to really like Bella. Rosalie even nodded her approval when she wasn't looking. Sophie was curled into a ball at her feet. And Alice, well, was Alice, beaming at the two of us like a proud aunt as if it was her own personal match. It all went better than I expected.

Until the boys showed up.

I watched her now, slightly paler than usual, her face frozen in what seemed to be alarm. Her heartbeat was soaring, and I found myself wondering what it could mean. Excitement, or fear? And if it was the first, then how was I supposed to take it? Maybe she wasn't over him as she thought. Maybe seeing him now made all the difference for her. Maybe that was all she needed to take him back.

Carefully, I let my eyes wander from her to him, and when our eyes met for a brief moment, I realized he was doing the same. He looked shocked, not only because he wasn't expecting her, I assumed, but because of the company she was keeping.

"Jacob," she murmured again, still with some confusion in her voice. Then, at once, she seemed to snap out of it. Her expression brightened, and a careful smile curled on her lips. "Hey."

"What are you doing here?" His eyes were all for her. He seemed as if he was struggling to keep me out of his field of vision. The boys became silent at the exchange, all of them now listening attentively and looking from me and Bella to Jacob. Emmett looked especially perplexed.

I didn't think she noticed her audience, though. "Just… hanging out." Her voice was surprisingly stable. She glanced over his shoulder. "Hey, where's Leah?"

Quil got ahead of Jacob. "It's just us guys this morning."

"You know my little bro's girlfriend?" Emmett, ever the slow one, asked all of a sudden, his eyes darting from Jacob to Bella and back.

I groaned inwardly. I was sure Alice had told him about the Jacob part. Apparently, I was wrong. But before I managed to say anything, Bella replied.

"Our dads are sort of best friends."

Sweet, selfless Bella. I knew she said it because she didn't want to make me uncomfortable. I gave her waist a tiny squeeze. I could see the motion didn't go amiss by Jacob.

Emmett seemed to accept that explanation. He nodded once, and then looked at the boys again. "You guys can join us if you want. There's plenty of food left."

"Actually, it's Billy pasta day. We'd better get over there to help," said Embry.

"Charlie's supposed to be there, isn't he?" Jacob asked Bella. There was this pertinence in his tone that irritated me.

"I'm not sure. He was heading there after work, but I don't know if he's done at the station."

"Maybe you can stop by later too." His voice was hopeful. His eyes flickered to me, the gentleness in them all gone. It felt like a war declaration.

"Thanks, but I kind of have plans for the rest of the day," she replied, leaning against me ever so slightly. I loved her for that.

"Oh." He looked like someone had punched him in the stomach. "Some other time, then."

"Sure," she whispered, lowering her gaze. For the first time since the beginning of this exchange, I sensed her discomfort.

The guys began to leave then, and parted noisily from Emmett. Jacob lagged behind even when they moved further away from us. I watched Bella carefully. She kept her gaze away from them. Her expression gave nothing away. I let my hand wander along her arm and laced my fingers with hers. To my relief, she didn't pull back. I glanced at Alice. My concern was reflected in her gaze.

"What was that all about?" Emmett wondered aloud. Rosalie rolled her eyes. He noticed. "What? What did I say?"

"Emmett," Alice started, unusually slow. "Jacob is Bella's ex."

He gaped at her as understanding slowly sank in. "_You_ were the girl from Forks?" His eyes flickered to me. I could almost see how everything clicked into place in his mind. A naughty grin curled on his lips. Bella shrank further into my chest. "Dude, I'm _so_ proud to be your brother just now."

xoxox

The rest of the day was uneventful. Bella seemed quieter after the appearance of the La Push boys, but not completely detached. It had never come up once in any of our conversation. Even Emmett, who probably noticed her uneasiness, didn't bug her about the Jacob thing. The good thing was that despite my concern that seeing him might change her mind about breaking up with him, she didn't leave my side. Combined with her father's reaction about us moving in together, I feared that seeing Jacob would undermine her confidence even further.

It was getting darker when I stopped the car in front of her house. I killed the engine and leaned back in my seat, smiling at her. "That went well, I think."

"Yes, minus the Jacob part," she mumbled, but didn't look away. Her stare didn't reflect indecision or lack of confidence. Just endless pain.

"Hey…" I shifted so he could take her face between my palms. Her cheeks were cold. Her eyes seemed darker, fathomless, in the dim light. "Don't do this to yourself. Give him a few days to recover." I leaned closer to lay a kiss on her lips. "See you tomorrow?"

"You'd better." She smiled, and brought my face closer to hers. We kissed for a long moment before we pulled away at the same time, staring at each other breathlessly. It was hardly enough, and we both knew it. "Do you want to come in?"

I grinned. "I do, but I'd better not," I threw a glance over my shoulder. The police cruiser was in the driveway, more intimidating than normally.

"He doesn't like driving it on weekends," she shrugged, then winked at me. "He's not home yet."

"But he will be, soon," I pointed out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Right," she wrinkled her nose at the reminder. "I assume we don't want to risk you're getting shot at." She reached out and tousled my hair. "Walk me to the door, at least?"

I could never refuse her anything. I nodded, and got out of the car to get the door for her. We walked to the front door in silence, and I couldn't help but think back of last Christmas. I was welcome in their home then, but I wasn't sure the same rules applied anymore now. I didn't want to jeopardize coming in uninvited by Charlie when Bella had made it clear what he thought about this.

"I'll leave my cell phone on," I told her as she leaned against the unlocked door. "If you can't sleep, if you need anything, just text me."

"Okay," she replied, but I knew she wouldn't. She didn't want to wake me, she'd later say. "I had a really great time."

"Me too." I lay a hand on her cheek. The burden of the past two weeks had just dawned on me. I missed her so much. But seeing Jacob today, seeing the way he was looking at her… "Does it change anything?"

I didn't realize I asked it aloud until her forehead creased. "What do you mean?"

"Today. Jacob. Have you… changed your mind?" I locked my stare on hers.

For a second, she looked confused. Then she seemed to have caught up on the real meaning of my question, and a soft laughter escaped her. "Don't be silly."

It took me a moment to realize I was supposed to get a confirmation out of it. "How is that being silly?"

"Just because my dad is not too thrilled about us moving in together, and just because Jacob doesn't seem pleased about you and I doesn't mean I'll want him back. I made my choice. I don't want anyone else." A small smile broke the seriousness of her stare. "You're stuck with me."

"Hardly," I protested, returning her smile with slightly more confidence now. I kissed her again, but this time she was the one pulling back after a moment.

"You'd better just go or I'll drag you inside," she breathed, laying her hands on my chest to gently push me away. I grinned, unabashed. Some way to be dismissed. I kissed her forehead but did as she said. She remained standing in the doorway until I drove away.

I drove passed Charlie's car on my way home. He was driving a battered truck, the one I saw Bella drive last summer. At least she wouldn't be alone in that house for long. I was slightly more reassured on the way home. I guessed I should never have doubted her, but it kind of helped my self esteem to get the confirmation from her. The memory of that kiss in the car left me yearning for more, burning. More than anything, I wished I could stay there with her.

To distract myself, I tried to think of a way to spend the next day. Last summer I discovered a second hand bookstore in downtown Seattle. It was tiny, barely detectable for passersby, and I found some really great stuff in there. I knew Bella would love it, too. She was such a huge sucker for the classics. There was an amazing Italian restaurant very close by, so we could probably make a full day out of it. Just the two of us this time.

I was still smiling to myself when I left the car in the garage and headed for the kitchen. I grabbed a can of apple juice out of the fridge. It almost slipped out of my grip when I turned and found my mother standing in the doorway.

"Back so soon?" she asked, smiling at me.

There was genuine surprise in the question, as if she'd truly expected me to spend the night. Ugh, I tried to refrain from thinking about what she might be thinking.

Her smile got an inch wider. "I heard you got yourself quite a catch."

"I'm glad Emmett thinks so," I replied dryly. I should have known he wouldn't be able to keep his mouth shut. On my way up, I'd stop and have a talk with my brother. "I'm going to my room." Before I walked passed her, I stopped to lay a kiss on the top of her head.

"Edward, honey, wait," she pleaded. Her face was unusually timid. "I don't want you to get mad at me," she started; I already knew I wouldn't like the rest of this sentence, "but I really want to ask her to dinner tomorrow."

"Mom – "

"Just ask her. I don't want to do this against your will. It's just… you hid it from us for so long. Surely you won't deny me of that now, will you?"

Her plea remained hanging there, her expression heart-wrenching. I was torn. I couldn't bear hurting my mother, but I couldn't subject Bella to this, knowing how embarrassing it was bound to be, for both of us, without her consent. "I'll ask her," I said eventually, forcing myself to meet my mother's eyes.

She walked over to me and took my hands in hers. "Thank you," she said, squeezing my hands a bit. "Sleep well, honey."

I walked passed Emmett's door, since there were more urgent matters to attend to now. I took a quick shower and got ready for bed. It was still kind of early, hardly ten, but spending the entire day on the beach had always exhausted me. With the extra stress of Bella meeting Emmett and Rosalie today, I felt especially drained.

When I retrieved my cell phone from my bedside, there was a text message I got while out of the room.

_I wish you stayed. _

I smiled and checked the details of the message. It was ten minutes old. I assumed it meant she was still awake. Then again it could also mean she sent it right before she went to bed. I decided to risk it. _Are you asleep?_

_No. Have you changed your mind?_

I assumed she meant my earlier reluctance to come in. _Of course not. I all but bumped into your father on my way home. Not coming in was wise._

Her number was first on my speed dial. I clicked it before she had a chance to reply my text.

"Tired of typing?" she asked as soon as she picked up. There was laughter in her husky voice.

"What I have to say is too long to type," I grimaced.

"Ah oh. That doesn't sound too good."

"It's not my idea. I had completely different plans for tomorrow."

"I wasn't aware we've had any plans for tomorrow."

I chuckled bitterly. "We don't, now."

"Edward, would you stop going in circles? I'm too tired for puzzles."

"Okay, but please know it wasn't my idea."

"What are you talking about?"

"My mother wants to ask you to dinner." The only reply on the other end was silence. "Bella? Are you there?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

"I'm sorry. I know it's too soon, but I don't think she'll let go so easily."

"So I might as well just say yes?"

"Basically I don't think you have much choice, yes."

"Okay, then," she said slowly. "But on one condition."

Oh? "What?"

"If I'm meeting your parents tomorrow, you have to meet mine."

I cringed inwardly, but didn't protest. I knew she was right. "Fair enough." I heard her laugh through a yawn. She sounded as exhausted as I felt. "Get some rest, okay?"

She snorted. "Right. Like I could possibly sleep after _that_."

I laughed and sank back into the pillows. "Good night, Bella."

I was still smiling when I hung up. I was looking forward for tomorrow evening, in a weird, twisted way.

xoxox

Due to the change in our plans for the following evening, we spent the morning wandering around Port Angeles because I didn't want to tire her out. My mother didn't even attempt to hide her enthusiasm when I gave her a positive reply about Bella's acceptance of her invitation. She announced she'd take half the day off so she'd have enough time to tackle the kitchen. I tried to tell her how unnecessary it had been, but she wouldn't hear of it. Luckily, Emmett and Rosalie were supposed to get out of town later that evening, so they probably wouldn't join us. Alice had some plans she couldn't postpone, so Bella was spared the extended family at this point.

I spent the afternoon tidying up my room. My mother raised an eyebrow when I ventured into the kitchen for cleaning supplies. Emmett, who was there with her, sampler in disguise of a helper, wolf whistled and teased me. I smacked his head with a kitchen towel before I went back up.

I drove slower than I normally would, even though I was anxious to see Bella already. She seemed nervous when I dropped her at her house earlier that day. I hoped she had some time to get used to the idea by now. I tried to apply the same attitude to myself. It was silly of me, to be so scared about this meeting with Chief Swan. Wasn't that what I'd always wanted, the chance to be introduced to him as his daughter's boyfriend?

No, I reminded myself as I sat in my car in front of their house, stalling. That was what I'd always dreaded.

A hint of movement from inside the house caught my eye. Someone was watching me through the front window, hidden behind the curtains. The shadow, illuminated by lamplight, was too small and thin to be her father, so I knew it must be Bella. I couldn't bare the thought of her witnessing my cowardice, so I swallowed my foolish fear and stepped out of the car with more confidence than I felt.

I didn't dare to kiss her when he was so close by, so I let my lips brush against her cheek in a chaste peck. Her eyelids dropped with what seemed like embarrassment, and the tiniest smile curled on her lips as if she realized my motive. "I thought you were going to sit there all evening," she said quietly as she showed me in and shut the door. She raised her eyes to mine. They were gleaming in the dim light. She still seemed nervous beyond that supposedly confident smile.

"I meant to."

She gasped, pretending to be horrified. "You're not _scared_, are you?" she taunted me.

I snorted, playing along. "Scared? No, of course not. It's not like your father could shoot me or something." I caught a glimpse of his work jacket, hung just behind me. The badge on its front was visible and quite frightening up close. I shuddered inwardly.

"Well, he's in a pretty good mood. His team is winning. I think." Then the laughter in her eyes shifted into urgency. "Do I look okay?" she asked, forcing my eyes away from hers as she looked down at herself with what could only be described as panic. She wore black slacks that ended at her ankles, with a white top and a transparent, long sleeved blue blouse over it. She didn't have any makeup on, apart for that pink lip gloss that made her lips look dangerously distracting whenever they caught the faint light of the hallway.

"You look perfect," I assured her. I took her hand and brought it to my lips.

"Bella?"

She started and dropped her hand just when Charlie appeared. He seemed surprised to find us in the hallway. "Oh. I thought you went outside," he told her, but kept his eyes on me. It wasn't a glower per-se, but it made me feel as if I'd done more than holding her hand. "Hello again."

"Good evening, Chief Swan," I replied, struggling to keep my voice from trembling. It was suddenly warmer in the hallway. It felt as if the small space was closing in on me. I wasn't expecting a seamless meeting, but I wasn't expecting it to be so difficult either.

"We can skip the formalities, right? You know Edward longer than I do," Bella told Charlie.

He muttered something that sounded like, "I hope I don't know him as well as you do," but I didn't think she caught it. He shook his head, as if he was reminding himself to behave, and stepped forward to shake my hand. "So what are your plans this evening?"

"Just dinner with my parents, Sir."

"Let me see your driver's license."

"I'm sorry?" I blinked.

"_Dad_!" Bella hissed furiously.

He didn't apologize or take it back, just kept watching me. The demand lingered in his glare. I reached for my wallet in the back pocket of my jeans, took out my license and handed it to him. I stole a glance at Bella as he examined it. She looked perplexed and mouthed an apology which I dismissed with a shake of my head. I didn't want to begin to think what my mother had in store for her. This was a minor humiliation comparing to what we'd soon have to endure.

Whatever he'd been looking for on my driver's license, he hadn't found it. He handed it back to me with a sealed expression, and I couldn't help but think how much nicer he'd been on Christmas. Then again I wasn't dating his daughter then. She was his only child, his only family. Over protectiveness was justified.

"Do you smoke? Drink? Do anything else I should be aware of?"

"Do you want to search for needle marks on his arms, Dad?" Bella rolled her eyes. "Come on, this is ridiculous. We're just going out for dinner."

"At _his_ place," he grumbled.

"You've never interrogated Jacob that way." There were accusation and bitterness in her retort, and I tried not to let it get to me. "Come on. We all know what this is about, so cut it out." A bell went off in where I assumed the kitchen was. "I need to go check on the oven. Please don't kill each other until I'm back." She held his gaze for a second, her eyes earnest and serious. Then she flashed me a tiny grin and left me alone with him.

I hoped it wouldn't take her long. We were still in the hallway, and he didn't ask me in. Which was all for the better, of course.

"Bella tells me you two have been seeing each other for quite a while," he broke the awkward silence. His voice was so sudden that at the sound of it, I jumped, startled.

"That's right."

"You didn't say anything when we met on Christmas," he said, his eyes boring into me as if he was trying to read through me. I felt like a prisoner under an interrogation.

"There wasn't much to say on Christmas."

Another awkward pause followed, but he broke that one as well. "Look, umm… what she just said about Jacob. It's not that I prefer him to you." I guessed it was supposed to be an apology. However, like his daughter, he wasn't such a good liar. He barely looked at me when he continued. "Bella is a grownup and I respect her choices, even if I don't always understand them. I don't have anyone else but her. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I just want what's best for my daughter."

"Then we both want the same thing, Sir."

"Hmph." It could mean various things; he didn't leave me time to ponder over it. "Well, you two seem pretty close. I really rather not know just _how_ close," he said frowning. I felt my face grow hot. His forehead cringed further as if he noticed. "Just promise me that you're being careful."

His intention couldn't have been clearer. For a moment I was completely speechless, which a second later transformed into distress when I realized he was actually expecting a reply.

Unfortunately, this was when Bella waltzed back into the room. A whiff of her fragrance tickled my nostrils. Her expression was sweet, angelic, and above all, oblivious. "What are you two talking about?" she asked lightly.

"Nothing of importance," her father replied, pinning me with a significant glare. He was still waiting. I made sure she wasn't looking before I nodded, a wordless reply to his previous query.

"Dad, your dinner is ready, but be careful because the oven is still hot. I think there's some of Sue's apple pie left for later, but make sure you put the cover back in place afterwards or it'll be inedible in the morning." The way she tended him amazed me. It was as if she was the mother and he was the child.

"Thanks, kid." He used a softer tone with her. It was nice to be reminded he _had_ a softer side. "Not too late, okay?"

She laughed softly. "Don't wait up," she said, pecking his cheek, and then we were gone.

"I'm wondering about something," I said when we were finally on our way. I cast a side glance at her. "When we'll be living together, will you make my dinner too?" I struggled to appear nonchalant, but I could tell she saw through my act.

"Sure, if you'll do the cleaning and laundry and everything else."

"Huh, I think I'll pass," I sniggered.

She was in a surprisingly cheerful mood. She messed with the radio for a bit until she found a station she liked, and hummed along with the singer. I was a wreck in comparison. "I'm wondering about something too," she said all of a sudden. "What were you talking about while I was gone?"

"You don't want to know," I murmured, keeping my eyes on the road. I was sure she didn't hear it.

"Yes, I do. Did he start on Jacob again?"

"No, it was nothing like that."

"What, then?"

"Just leave it, Bella." Please leave it, I begged voicelessly.

"Well, if it was nothing you would have told me about it," she insisted. "And you looked so flustered when I got back, so he must have said something to you."

"I really don't want to tell you what he said."

"We have a problem then, because I really want you to tell me."

I stole a glance at her; she was smiling that sweet irresistible smile I could never stay indifferent to. I knew it was a matter of time before the smile made way to a much colder, harder expression. I braced myself for the change. "He wanted to make sure… I don't get you pregnant."

She gasped loudly, and I snuck another glance at her. Her eyes were wide, her lips still frozen in a silent gasp. Then she seemed to recover, and her eyes narrowed. "He didn't," she hissed.

"I'm afraid he did," I nodded somberly.

"He actually… said that?" she whispered, aghast. There wasn't enough light to tell for certain, but I was sure her face was dark crimson now.

"I believe his exact words were _just promise me that you're being careful_, but his intention was clear."

"Oh, God," she moaned, burying her head in her hands. Then she looked up. "Please tell me your mom and dad will never ask me anything like that. Lie to me if you have to."

"I'm pretty sure they won't. I can't promise anything about Emmett though."

"I thought Emmett was out for the evening."

"Exactly," I grinned. Next to me, she sighed with relief.

We didn't say much afterwards, and I let my mind wander. I decided not to let Charlie's hostility deter me. I believed him when he said he wanted what was best for his daughter. The fact he and I probably had different concepts of what was best for her shouldn't discourage me. If I had to prove myself worthy of his daughter, I meant to do it. I didn't take anything for granted. I meant to tell him that, but I'd become too flustered over his inquiry to actually get to that part.

It was sort of selfish of me, but all I really wanted was to turn back and head to the highway that led to Port Angeles or Olympia, anywhere but my place. I hadn't been alone with her since she got back. There were always other people around. Whenever I kissed her, it was briefly, because someone was always on our way. That was all I needed. One proper kiss.

A few miles before the turn to my house, literally in the middle of nowhere, I stopped the car.

"What are you doing?"

I didn't reply. I unfastened my seatbelt and leaned towards her. I brought her face close to mine and kissed her. The suddenness of the motion caught her off guard, but soon she yielded. I could feel her kissing me back with the same urgency, the same need, as my own. I let my tongue flicker against her bottom lip. She moaned as her tongue thrust forward to meet mine. I felt her arms came snaking around my neck. My own hands were on both sides of her face, pinning her to the back of her seat. Pretty soon we were both out of breath. We pulled away at the same second, heaving and staring at one another.

"What was that for?" she asked hoarsely.

"I believe I still owe you a kiss," I reminded her. There was a hint of recognition in her dark stare. "Besides, I'm just covering my bases. It was just in case you decide to break up with me after tonight."

She raised one eyebrow. "So little faith, Mr. Cullen?"

I laughed darkly and kissed her nose. "Let's save this confidence for the way back, shall we?"

She didn't have a backfire to that. I sniggered and started the car. The silence resumed as we drove into the darkness.


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: hi everyone, I hope you all had a good Christmas! As you know, this is the chapter before the last. Next (and last) update is going to be on Thursday so we can end 2009 properly – make sure to check back! In the meantime, here's chapter 29, also known as When Bella Met the Cullens – huge thankyou to Mizra for beta-ing it – happy reading =)**

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Chapter Twenty Nine – Bella

The house was bigger than I remembered, and grander, a shimmering diamond in the midst of the dark forest. I couldn't help the gasp that escaped me when I first caught sight of it. It had been in their family's possession for several generations now, Edward told me. It looked Victorian, with some modern improvements. The front of the house was mostly glass, but due to some architectural trick you couldn't actually see what was going on inside. The bottom floor was fully lit, which made the house sparkle in a golden halo. I tried not to stare.

We went in through the garage. He was leading the way, his hand on the small of my back. The slightest touch was enough to make my skin tingle. The interior of the house was just as impressive as its exterior. I suspected that the hallway we were crossing was just a small representation of the entire house – a vast space of white and light gray marble. From time to time he pointed at a sculpture or a painting, telling me his mom had made them. It was like a museum, but one that was well-lived in. More than anything, it was so different than anything I'd been used to that now I began to fear that Charlie's house – old and dark and untended – seemed so inferior to Edward in comparison.

"Are you okay?"

I blinked. I didn't realize I stopped until he asked it. He was watching me anxiously. I shook my head, hoping to send my sudden panic away. "Fine."

"This way," he said, steering me forward.

I was so confident before we got here. I dismissed his fears about me wanting to break up with him after tonight. Was it more than just a joke? Did he actually know something I didn't? Each of my steps was hesitant now as I slowly began to regret coming here. It was one thing to meet Emmett and Rosalie the other day. The beach was neutral territory. It wasn't half as intimidating as coming here had suddenly become. I felt like a gutter rat. I was clearly underdressed. I could see how Rosalie would fit in here, in this world of wealth and splendor, but how did I fit in? Would I ever? How could I ever think I deserved him?

But I didn't have a chance to make an escape. The hallway suddenly ended, giving way to a much larger, spacious room. It looked like a ballroom rather than a family room, but like the hallway we'd just walked in from, this room had this warm, homey feeling as well. One wall was made entirely of glass. I realized this was the same one that was visible from the outside. The ceiling looked farther than it normally would be, as the top floor was sort of built around it. An enormous chandelier hung up there, and I couldn't help but wonder how anyone could get so high to hang this thing. A staircase along one wall led the way upstairs. The living room was alive with color: crimson and gold for the carpets, soft yellow for the sofas. The furniture was a blend of modern and antiques again. More paintings hung on the walls here, but I couldn't tell them apart just now. Edward's grand piano was in the farthest end of the room. There was a fireplace, but it was unlit. I caught a glimpse of framed photos on the mantelpiece, at least a dozen of them.

They all looked up when we walked in. There were more people there than I'd prepared myself for, and I realized it was because Emmett and Rosalie were there. I tensed, thinking of our exchange from not so long ago, on the way here. My eyes flew to Edward, who looked as alarmed as I felt. But before either of us could question their presence, Sophie launched at us.

"No, Sophie," Edward protested when she charged at me, probably leaving a trail of dog hair all over my top.

"It's fine," I assured him, and patted her chubby cheeks. Her ears felt like velvet between my fingers. Edward sighed, but ran a hand over her back. She seemed to enjoy the attention. "Hi, Sophie," I cooed, and grinned at him. "See, she likes me."

"Of course she does," he whispered. Our eyes met, and for a second no one else existed.

Over our heads, someone cleared his throat quite loudly. I tore my eyes from Edward's with a start, and suddenly Emmett was there, grinning hugely as we both stood up. "Hello again," he said, his grin widening ever so slightly.

"What are you doing here?" Edward asked him in a furious whisper.

"We canceled our plans as soon as we heard about our special guest," he replied unabashed, waggling his eyebrows at me.

"Great," Edward moaned under his breath, and ran his hand through his hair. Clearly, that recent conversation of ours was fresh in his mind as well.

Emmett did a double take and tilted his head to the right as he observed Edward's face. "Dude. Pink is _so_ not your color," he said, looking genuinely bothered.

Edward flushed to the roots of his hair. His hand flew to his mouth to wipe any trace of lip gloss – _my_ lip gloss – off his lips. "Brilliant, Emmett," he muttered, keeping his eyes on the carpet. I held back a giggle.

"Really, Emmett, leave him alone," Rosalie, looking exquisite in cashmere and pearls, chided him. "Not everyone does pink. Not as well as you do," she added, winking at me as she slid her arm around his. "Lovely to see you again, Bella. I love your top. Blue is definitely your color."

"Umm, thanks," I mumbled, blushing. It was strange to get a compliment from this flawless blonde.

The last person in the room was a stranger, but I knew she had to be Edward's mom. She was beautiful in a different, subtler way than Rosalie's striking good looks. She didn't come forward to greet me. She kept her distance, a fact that would have discouraged me if it wasn't for that this small smile curling on her lips. Her hair was darker than Edward's, but it still had that same bronze undertone. It fell on her shoulders in perfect waves, as if she hadn't spent the entire day in the kitchen, like I suspected she had. She was petite in a way that reminded me of Alice. She didn't look old enough to be the mother of those two extremely tall twenty-something boys.

Suddenly her eyes were on mine, and I realized she caught me staring at her. As if she found some sort of confirmation in my gaze, she rushed forward. "Bella." There was the faintest accent in the way she pronounced my name. Italian?

"Bella, this is my mother Esme," Edward, suddenly behind me again, murmured.

"It's so wonderful to finally meet you. I heard so much about you," she said, smiling fondly at Emmett, who beamed at her.

I cringed inwardly, suddenly terrified of what he might have said to her. "Nice to meet you," I echoed her greeting as I shook her hand.

"You're a pretty little thing," she said, her fingers brushing the tips of my hair. I could feel my cheeks grow warm beneath her attentive gaze.

"Where's Dad?"

"He got a call from the hospital. One of his interns," she replied, rolling her eyes. "He took the evening off, but it's like he's still there. I don't know what they're going to do if he ever retires." Then she looked at me again, and her bothered expression shifted into a warm smile. "Come along, dear, have a seat," she said, urging me forward. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you." My voice came out in an embarrassing whisper. I tried to get over myself. She was lovely. There was no reason to be so panicked. Emmett wouldn't say anything inappropriate, would he…?

Feeling my legs begin to give way, I sank into the sofa gratefully. Edward came to sit next to me, which I appreciated. At least he wasn't going to throw me to the sharks. My eyes flickered to his and he flashed me an encouraging smile. It seemed as if our unspoken no touching policy applied here as well, but I didn't care. At least he was still close by.

His mother reclaimed her previous seat on the armchair across from us. "My son tells me you're a dancer," Mrs. Cullen said, beaming at me. "Of course he hardly ever tells me anything. When I really want to know something, I call my niece."

"Or Emmett," Emmett said, and ducked when Rosalie flashed him a warning glare.

"And I know your father, of course. He's such an asset for the community."

She wouldn't think so highly of him if she knew how he'd just treated her son, I thought bitterly. "He says the same about Dr. Cullen."

"Please, call me Carlisle."

I looked up, startled, at the sound of the new voice. My eyes widened ever so slightly as Edward's dad joined us. He was taller than I remembered, something both his sons clearly inherited. But it was the only thing they got from him, as it appeared. The two of them clearly took on their mother's coloring, because Dr. Cullen's fair features were such a striking contradiction to the three of them. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought he was Rosalie's father, not Emmett's.

"I was instructed not to call you Isabella," he said, flashing Edward a taunting grin. I stood up despite his protest so I could shake his hand properly. His hand was warm, so was his smile. "It's lovely to see you again. Welcome to our house."

"Thank you for inviting me," I said meekly, wincing at the difference between this welcome and the one Edward had to endure in my place earlier.

"You look a lot like your father. I never noticed it," he mused, watching me thoughtfully. I dropped my gaze, feeling self-conscious. I heard Emmett snigger.

"Stop bugging her," Edward's voice was almost a hiss. He touched my back ever so slightly. "I'll show you the rest of the house," he murmured, his tone softer.

"You've got half an hour," his mom called after us. I thought I heard Emmett murmur something about all the things one could do in half an hour. To my right, Edward groaned softly, so I knew I heard right.

The moment we were upstairs and hidden from prying eyes, he snaked his arm around me and pulled me closer. I leaned into him with certain relief. "I'm so sorry," he said, still in that low murmur. "Emmett wasn't supposed to be here. Try to ignore him. I always do."

I noticed he wasn't stopping to actually show me around. He walked forward purposefully, and since I didn't know my way, I simply followed. "Where are we going?"

"To safety," he replied, opening one of the doors ahead. He motioned me in. Only as I walked passed him, I realized we were in his room.

It was a typical guys' room, with lots of black and chrome and metal, but it still felt more welcoming than, say, the hopeless mess in Jacob's bedroom. Edward's room was also twice the size of any room, Jacob's or mine, which kind of worked well to accommodate the vast amount of CDs and books I spotted. His bed was huge, and should have taken half the space of the room, but somehow it didn't. He also had this very sophisticated sound system and a flat screen, but I barely looked at those. I went straight to the bookshelves. Some of them were nearly empty; I guessed the missing books were those he'd taken to New York. The same went for his CD collection, which varied from opera to contemporary pop music.

His breath was hot against my neck all of a sudden as his arms snaked around my waist again. He leaned his chin on the top of my head as I leaned into his embrace, reveling at his nearness. "Choose one," he murmured, nodding towards the CDs in front of us.

I let my eyes wander along the endless shelves. Some titles were familiar, some not at all. He didn't press me, just waited patiently, letting his fingers draw slow circles on my stomach. We stood close enough to the shelves so I didn't even have to leave his arms to reach out for the CD I wanted. I handed it to him with a small smile.

He sniggered. The sound sent shivers through me. "_The Lion King_? Really?"

I turned in his arms and shrugged. "It's a classic."

"Okay, then."

I wanted to protest when he pulled away and suddenly the entire room separated us. He wasn't looking at me. He observed the back of the CD thoughtfully before he nodded to himself and put the CD on. I chuckled when _Can You Feel the Love Tonight_ started playing. My laugh was cut short when he beckoned me forward.

We met halfway in the middle of the room. I could read the intention in his stare. He wrapped one arm around me, and took my hand with his free hand. I slowly laced our fingers together and pressed myself closer to him. And then we were dancing. I leaned my head against his chest, and suddenly the music was secondary as I focused on his heartbeat, a steady rhythm beneath my ear.

"See, nothing bad about _The Lion King_ after all."

He tightened his arm around me in reply. I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly. I wished we didn't have to join everyone for dinner. I wished we could stay this way, locked in this one perfect moment in time. When we started seeing each other, when everything was still a secret, Edward used to say how it was like living in a bubble. I kind of missed that time. Now our bubble was back, and I wanted to hold on to it for as long as I could.

I looked up just as he opened his eyes. The sweetest smile curled on his lips when our eyes met. I locked my gaze with his when I stood on tiptoes to kiss him. His body went rigid beneath my touch, but I didn't stop. I felt strangely valiant when it was just the two of us. I snaked my arms around his neck and pressed my lips to his once, twice, until I felt him slowly yielding. His lips parted beneath mine. His tongue brushed against mine ever so briefly. I moaned into his mouth.

I began to push him backwards in slow, calculated movements so it would seem as if it was still part of the dance. His lips were eager against mine now. His hands were at the small of my back, all but crushing me closer to his chest.

It wasn't until he was sitting on the edge of his bed with me on his lap that he realized what I was doing. "Bella – " he breathed.

"Shh…" I murmured, trailing my lips along his jaw. I felt lightheaded, intoxicated with his kisses, with his very presence. Recklessness won over reason. I was too far gone to put an end to it now.

"What are you… doing…" There was a sharp intake of breath when I managed to push him on his back. He stared up at me, his eyes wide with distress.

I lowered myself on top of him so I could whisper in his ear. "I kind of want to explore Emmett's theory."

"But – " His protest was cut short when I sucked on his earlobe. He gasped loudly. I brought my eyes to his as I slowly released him. His gaze was dark with desire.

I let my lips wander across his face, never keeping them at the same place for too long, all the while listening to his breathing getting heavier. "Tell me when to stop and I will," I whispered, tracing my fingers along the hem of his shirt before I let them slip beneath it.

"You _have_ to stop." But he didn't sound as if he meant it. "The door isn't even locked and if anyone – "

"Too much talking," I murmured, lowering my lips to his. His kiss was gentle, as if he didn't want to hurt me with rejection. He tried to pull away but I didn't let him. I clawed at his shirt and pressed my lips more firmly against his until I felt his resistance wavering. For a second, I was sure I won. He brought his hands to my waist and rolled us over. He didn't stop kissing me until I was pinned against the mattress.

And then, when he began to pull away from me slowly, I realized I was wrong. "We can't do this," he whispered hoarsely. There was the slightest tremor hidden in his voice.

We didn't say anything for the longest time. We lay there lost in each other's eyes, trying to catch our shaky breaths. He meant to say something, to apologize, I thought, but he didn't get a chance to. Three loud bangs on the door tore into the silence. Edward's hand flew to cover my mouth, as if the scream that was building up in my throat was somehow audible to him. "Dinner's served, lovebirds, come on out!" Emmett roared.

Edward buried his head in the crook of my neck before he took another deep breath to compose himself. He pulled away from me and went to turn the music off. Smiling shyly at one another, we made sure we were both presentable and not too disheveled before we headed to the door. Then he very gently took my hand and led me out of the room, promptly ignoring Emmett's naughty grin.

Dinner started off rather well. Everyone oohed and aahed about Esme's cooking, and I soon joined in to their ongoing compliments. Since I'd been providing for myself in the cooking department so far, it was kind of refreshing to meet a mom who actually knew what she was doing in the kitchen. Edward placed himself next to me before anyone could decide otherwise. His mother was across from him. Rosalie sat next to her, and Carlisle and Emmett were each on each end of the table. Emmett was on the end closest to me. I tried to do as Edward said, and ignore him.

It wasn't so bad at first. Their interrogation began with some banal questions about how long had we been dating and how did we meet. Rosalie asked me about some of my dance courses because she was familiar with a few staff members in the dance division. Esme – she refused I'd call her Mrs. Cullen – wanted to hear more about why I chose ballet and how long had I been dancing. Carlisle wanted to know how I felt about coming to live in Forks, and how Phoenix was different. Emmett's interests were the most varied, of course, and the most random. He wanted to know if I knew how to play pool (which I didn't), if I knew how to stand on my toes (which I did, and I promised I'd show him someday), if I had a favorite football team (which I didn't) and, above all, what _had_ I found in his younger brother. It went without saying that this last query remained unanswered.

I helped everyone clear the table despite their protest. Everyone took part in it, which was nice. By that time I felt so safe with them that I laughed from Rosalie's comments and retorted Emmett's innuendoes with witty backfires I didn't even know I had in store. Edward seemed impressed. When the dishwasher was humming contentedly in the kitchen and the table was clean again, we moved to the living room and Esme served tea and cake. Edward sat next to me again, but still not as close as I hoped he would. He still looked slightly flustered about what happened in his room earlier.

"Your name is quite special," Esme observed, watching me thoughtfully over her mug. "Is any of your parents Italian?"

"My dad. Well, his mother was. But my mom actually came up with my name. She says she liked the sound of it."

"I like it," Esme smiled. "I like old fashioned names. They're eternal. Like my Edward," she said, her gaze flickering to him before her eyes met mine again. "Did he tell you how I'd come up with his name?"

"Sort of," I replied, flushing. I remembered that hesitant first conversation, our first real conversation ever.

"It was a tough pregnancy with him. Unlike his brother. I was confined to bed throughout that last month. I was so bored that I only found consolation in my classics. I started _Sense and Sensibility_ just a few days before he was born. It had always been my favorite."

"It's mine, too," I whispered, fully aware of Emmett's leering gaze on me.

I let my eyes wander around the room, and my gaze fell on his piano again. It was gleaming in the chandelier light. But the sight of this piano enhanced a certain memory of another piano, and I had to look away before my cheeks would grow warm and give me away.

Esme's eyes followed mine, apparently. She smiled kindly at me. "Did you get to hear him play?" she asked. But before I could reply, she shook her head. "Oh, of course you did. Alice said you went to his end of the year recital. We were sad to miss it this year, not just because of the recital, but because we were really looking forward to see you – "

I saw Edward shift uncomfortably on his seat. He looked downright embarrassed, and I wondered if this could be worse for him than being humiliated by my dad.

Before I could think of a way to steer the conversation elsewhere, his mom was already on her feet and across the room. She reached for something on the mantelpiece. It was one of the framed photos I'd detected earlier. She handed it to me with a radiant smile. Edward shrank further in his seat.

It was him, I realized, at least ten years old. Dressed in a tiny tux, he was seated next to a piano. His feet barely reached the floor. He hadn't changed much. His hair was combed back and not as tousled. His eyes looked mature and serious, which was nearly startling considering how young he must have been in that photo. "Aww, cute!" I giggled. I couldn't stop myself. I knew he'd probably hate me forever for taking his mother's side, but it _was_ cute. I looked up. His face was slightly pink now, his expression tortured. He looked as if he'd strangle me – or his mom – any second now. "How old are you in this one?"

"He's about eight. It was his first big recital," his mother replied, beaming. Then she looked thoughtfully at her husband. "Carlisle, where's that videotape? Maybe Bella will want to – "

"_No_ videotapes, Mom," Edward cut her off, his voice trembling with distress.

Across from me, Emmett was chocking with laughter. He didn't even try to hide it. He handed me another photo, of him with Edward and Alice in what seemed to be Halloween. I had to do a double take when I finally recognized Edward, standing between his brother and his cousin. I couldn't stop the snigger that escaped me. "Good one, isn't it?" Emmett asked, grinning. "Alice made him dress as Peter Pan. She was a perfect Tinkerbelle. And I think I make a pretty good Captain Hook myself, don't you think?"

"I should have stabbed you with that plastic sword when I got the chance," Edward muttered, scowling at his older brother.

"And this one is from his senior prom," I was handed another photo by their mother. The boy in this photo was slightly more familiar, although still kind of young. I realized this was the faded first memory I'd had from him, the first thing that came to mind when we first met in the auditions. I couldn't help but stare at the girl next to him. She was pretty, of course, all blonde ringlets in her perfectly fit coral gown. I was sure her shoes were a perfect match for this candy dress.

"That's Jessica," Emmett said what I'd already guessed. "Say, Edward, what's Jessica up to these days?"

"Don't know, don't care," Edward replied in that same threatening tone.

"Maybe we'll run into her this year as well at the pub like we did last year," said Emmett. Then his eyes fell on me. "You're coming with us, aren't you?"

"Am I?" I asked, slightly perplexed. I really wasn't up to meeting Edward's blonde ex.

"There's this pub in Port Angeles," Edward explained. "We hang out there every summer. Alice and Emmett like to play pool." Which explained Emmett's previous inquiry about my pool abilities.

"And since both of you suck at pool, you can sit aside and discuss poetry," Emmett said, rolling his eyes.

The rest of the evening was, fortunately, less awkward. We played monopoly, and we were all losing miserably to Rosalie when suddenly all four of us got text messages from Alice, complaining how much she wanted to be there with us. Emmett texted her on everyone's behalf and promised her we'd all go out tomorrow the next evening.

At some point, when we were all on the verge of a bankrupt, I caught sight of the clock behind Emmett's shoulder. It was ten to eleven. I didn't realize it was so late. I didn't even have to say anything. Edward's eyes followed mine, and he nodded silently and helped me up. Emmett remained seated in front of the board, sour faced and pouting, and demanded a rematch. Rosalie said they could continue the game later, and hopped to her feet to say goodbye.

They all walked us to the garage. Carlisle shook my hand and asked me to give his regards to Charlie. Esme even gave me a hug and made me promise I'd be back soon. Emmett just winked at me when Edward opened the car door for me, and reminded me I was coming with them to the pub in Port Angeles the next evening.

The drive back to my place was quiet. I was exhausted. It had just dawned on me I hardly got proper sleep since I got to Forks. It felt as if I got here weeks ago, not merely days. The heat was on, which, along with the constant movement of the car, further lulled me to sleep, but I fought to keep my eyes open. I didn't want to do anything embarrassing as to fall asleep in Edward's presence.

"You're very quiet," Edward commented, driving one handed as he reached out to touch my hand. "Horrified?"

"No, just tired," I replied. "Besides, why would I be horrified? I had a great time."

I saw a flicker of a smile on his lips as we drove beneath a streetlight. "So, what do you want to do tomorrow?" he asked when we were parked in front of my house. There was light in the living room, and I idly wondered if Charlie was awake and waiting for me.

I actually had plans for the next morning, I realized. I unfastened my seatbelt and looked up at him. "I kind of hoped you'd agree to help me unpack. I really want to get it over with, but by myself there's a good chance I don't finish it until Thanksgiving. I need to get my books organized, and there are too many of them and just one of me."

"Sure, I'll help," he smiled.

I frowned when something else occurred to me. "Although my room is about as big as your closet," I chuckled darkly when inferiority hit me full force again. It was inevitable, despite the fact I'd spent a really nice evening in their presence. I knew it was bound to hunt me from now on.

He shook his head. "I kind of like your room." I barely had a chance to grasp the meaning of his comment. I watched him in stunned silence as he became flustered again. "Damn it," he murmured, and flashed me a sheepish grin. "I didn't plan on telling you this."

I exhaled slowly, trying to get my heartbeat under control. "When…" I started, then stopped to clear my throat and rephrase. "When were you in my room?"

He looked straight at me, but with difficulty. "When I came here on Christmas to give your father his gift. Sophie invited herself in, and… she sort of led me there," he whispered. He looked almost panicked when our eyes met. "I didn't mean to get in there. Please don't freak out."

"I'm not freaking out," my voice cracked, which was silly. It wasn't a big deal in any way. It was hardly even considered _my_ room at the time; I hadn't lived there. And we weren't even dating back then. It didn't matter. He wasn't breaking any rules.

"I sort of wondered back then… if I would ever be back there," he said; the confession seemed to be a strain.

"Well, I just invited you back," I smiled, shifting closer. "And you know what else?" I whispered, holding his gaze as I placed one hand over his thigh. "Charlie is doing a double shift tomorrow. He's going to be gone all day."

I was close enough to hear his sharp intake of breath at the implication of that. He gulped. "You really shouldn't have said it," he said eventually, and there was nervous laughter in his voice. "It's going to be a long night."

"Here's something to look forward to," I murmured, pressing my lips to his. He groaned as soon as our lips touched, and it was as if the fire from earlier that night – first in this very car, then in his bedroom – had been reignited. I slid onto his lap as we exchanged fervent kisses, our breathing ragged and erratic, before he pulled back with difficulty.

"You'd better go in before he realizes you're home. It won't end well if he comes looking for you," he added, looking slightly less disoriented now as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

I huffed. I hated when he was being sensible, but I knew he was right. I didn't want to mess with Charlie's reluctance more for one night. And we did have the entire day tomorrow. I slid back to my seat and opened the door. I shuddered for a second at the crisp air that sipped in, but it helped to resettle my mind. "Good night," I whispered, flashing him one last grin before I turned to go.

Once inside, I frowned as the memory of a few hours earlier surfaced. I was going to have to have a talk with my dad. There was no reason for him to be so prejudiced about Edward just because he thought Jacob was better for me. What did Charlie know, anyway?

The TV was still on. I strode in, determined to make my point, but stopped short on the threshold. Charlie was fast asleep on the couch, waiting for me although I'd asked him not to. I felt a slow reluctant smile curl on my lips. Some things would never change.

But some things had. And I _would_ make him see what I'd come to realize – that Edward, not Jacob, was my future. He was the one. I belonged with him. I knew Charlie would understand, eventually. I knew that when I'd least expect it, he'd give me – us – his blessing.

He looked so vulnerable, so defenseless. His badass cop image ceased to exist in his sleep. Looking at him now, I saw the man my mother must have seen when she fell in love with him, when she tied her life with his so hastily. I thought about how it ended for my parents, and couldn't help but think about the devotion I saw between Carlisle and Esme. It must have been amazing to grow up in a family where the parents cared so much about each other. I loved my parents, but this is not the future I wanted for myself. If Edward _was_ the one, and – although it was too early to think so far ahead – if we ever got there, I hoped his parents would be our role model, and not mine.

I took out a quilt from the closet in the hallway and covered my dad with it. I didn't have the heart to wake him up. He'd realize where he was at some point of the night, I hoped. I dropped a kiss on his forehead and went up to my room.

I clicked a lamp on, and heard the soft sound of an engine coming to life. I hurried to the window just in time to see Edward's car glide along the road, until it disappeared from my view. I smiled. Of course he'd wait until I was safe up here. I lingered by the window, barely noticing the rain when it had started. Then, slowly, I tore my gaze away from the darkness and started to get ready for bed.

Edward was right, I thought, sighing, as I crawled into bed. It was going to be a long night. But tomorrow wasn't far away now.

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**A/N: a day later: right after I updated with this chapter, my laptop died on me. I'm not sure I'll be able to update on Thursday as promised, but I'll try my hardest not to push the date further. Hopefully everything will work out until then. In the meantime, keep up those awesome reviews, people, they cheer me up after last night's crisis :/**


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: I've got some good news and some bad news. The bad news is that this is the final chapter! It came out a bit longer than the others, but I kind of thought you wouldn't mind this minor fact… I wanted to thank all of you lovely readers who had faith in this story and kept checking back for updates, those of you who reviewed regularly and those of you who lurked but were still there (according to my story stats at least). I'm still partial to writing AH fics, but this one was great fun to do, so thank you for being here to share it with me.**

**Oh, the good news? You'll have to read to the end of this chapter to find out ;)**

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Chapter Thirty – Edward

It was the most amazing summer. We hardly ever separated, although we were both really busy. Somehow both of us managed to get part time jobs in Port Angeles. Bella worked in a small bookshop, and I worked in a nearby grocery store where I mostly carried boxes from place to place, which Emmett found hilarious. Bella took ballet lessons in a studio in Seattle once a week. When she wasn't spending the night at Alice's, I drove her there to keep her company on the road. We'd spent most evenings at her place because Charlie was working late hours and we had the entire house to ourselves, which could not be said about my place, where someone was always lurking around.

Charlie didn't try to hide his discontent about Bella's choice, but at least he was less hostile these days. He was making efforts to be friendlier as the summer passed. Bella said it was because she told him about the way my parents had treated her the first time she came over. Fortunately, we didn't have that same problem on my end. Both my parents adored her. Emmett admitted that she was very sweet despite her being bookish, and Rosalie hushed him and said she was just right for me. Even Sophie went crazy with unrestrained joy whenever Bella came over. Whatever happened between us in the future, at least I could be assured I had my family's support.

We were due back in New York City tomorrow, a week ahead of time, because we wanted to get settled in the apartment without the hassle of the first week back in school. My parents were throwing their annual party earlier this year so we wouldn't have to miss it. Emmett and Rosalie also had to be back in Los Angeles by the end of August, so the timing was perfect for everyone.

Unlike previous years, I was looking forward for my parents' party. I was rather excited to have Bella there for the first time. She spent the entire morning at my place helping out with our last minute preparations. She drove here by herself, sheepishly admitting she had nearly missed the turn in the road. Emmett spent the entire morning teasing her that her truck wouldn't survive the drive back, then made fun of me when I was trying to defend her. She was everywhere at once: helping my mom in the kitchen, folding napkins with Alice, arranging tables with Emmett and me. I all but had to lift her into her truck to send her home to get some rest before this evening. She refused my offer to come and get her afterwards. I'd better stay and help my mom, she said, dropped a kiss on my nose, and drove away.

"Bella's gone?" My mother asked me when I stepped into the kitchen. Her smile was warm, sympathetic. I nodded.

Emmett, whose head was stuck in one of the cupboards bellow the sink, straightened up. "Yeah, definitely not enough drinks, Mom. We should probably go and get some more, just in case." Then his eyes fell on me, and a slow grin curled on his lips. "Maybe Edward can go, since his toy won't be back until the evening."

"Shut up, Emmett," I muttered. I could feel my cheeks begin to burn beneath his probing gaze. It made his smile widen, obviously.

"Dude, you two are so sweet together it's sickening." He demonstrated his point by pretending to be gagging. I threw a dish towel at him; it hung awkwardly on the top of his head.

"Ah, Emmett, you're not being fair. He loves her."

It was the worst thing my mother could say to him. I saw his grin widen even further and I knew it meant he filed the information for later use.

"Besides, passing judgment on others is the easiest thing to do."

He stared at her emptily. "Which means?"

I rolled my eyes. "Which means, you need to remember that when you and Rose are all over each other in public," I retorted dryly, and turned to my mom. "What is it you need me to get?"

Apparently, we were short on drinks for this evening, and my mom wanted to make sure we wouldn't run out. I didn't mind going out and getting everything from the store. After being confined to our backyard all morning, I could use the fresh air. Besides, it meant I could be away from Emmett and his irritating remarks. I drove to La Push, because it was the closest and probably cheaper than anything I would get in Port Angeles. At some point of the way my phone went off with a new text message. I opened it once I parked in front of the store, then sniggered.

_There were no casualties_, Bella said. _I'm safe. So is the truck_.

Smiling to myself, I made a mental note to tell Emmett the truck had survived yet another drive back and forth to Forks.

I followed my mother's list (along with Emmett's additions) and got everything rather fast. There were more bags on the counter than I'd expected. I bet Emmett thought I had enough practice heavy lifting after this summer. Sighing inwardly, I stuffed my cell phone and wallet in the back pockets of my jeans, and got to work. I was so careful about balancing everything without breaking anything that on my way out, I nearly bumped into a person who'd just walked into the store. I noticed him just in time and took a step back, staggering slightly. I looked up, meaning to apologize, but the words froze halfway up my throat.

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he recognized me at the same second I recognized him. "Edward Cullen."

I chose to ignore the scornful undertone of his chilly greeting. "Jacob," I nodded politely. "How was your summer?"

"Super. How was yours?"

The malicious tone didn't cease. The real intention of his question couldn't have been clearer. I tried to compose myself. I wouldn't let this kid get to me. "Mine was great, thank you."

To my surprise, he didn't head into the store as he had clearly intended before. Instead he opened his arms a little, gesturing I'd pass him a few of my bags. He was still sulking, so I stalled at first, suspecting his real intentions, but then accepted his wordless offer gratefully. He followed me to my car. He didn't say anything for the first few moments, just helped me get everything in the back seat.

"Thanks," I said when we were done. I took a glimpse of his eyes; dark and cold and resentful. I didn't expect anything different though.

For a moment, he didn't say anything, just kept watching me closely. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable beneath his probing gaze. It was as if he was waiting for me to say something. "So, you and Bella, huh?" he asked eventually. It didn't have the casual tone he'd probably meant it to have. It also sounded as if he'd meant to ask it for a while, but in the brief time we'd met over the summer, there was always someone else around.

"Yes, me and Bella."

"I don't like it."

I nearly dropped my keys on the sidewalk. I stared at him wide-eyed. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he spat. We stood there facing each other. He was as tall as I'd been, if not taller, but he was definitely bulkier than me. For a moment I wondered if I should be scared. He wouldn't do anything foolish like picking up a fight with me with all those people around, would he?

"I don't see how this is any of your business."

"I'm still her friend." But his possessive tone made it quite clear he was hoping to be more than that. "You're out of her league, anyway," he added, narrowing his eyes again when he observed my car. "She's out of yours. Now, I don't know what your game is – "

"What my game is?" I echoed incredulously. "You've got some nerve, Jacob. Not that it's any of your business, but she _wants_ to be with me. She chose me. I haven't forced her into anything." He was standing there scowling, his hands clenched into fists on his sides. "What do you care, anyway? You've got Leah."

"No, I don't," he replied, his eyes flaring. "She dumped me when she realized she didn't have a chance… as long as Bella was around." He paused and looked at me viciously, as if he was waiting for the meaning of this to sink in.

"Well, fortunately, Bella isn't going to be around for much longer," I said coldly. "We're leaving tomorrow."

Apparently, he was unrelenting. "I bet her dad would rather see her with me than with you."

It was clear he knew just the right buttons to push. But after all this time with her, I was too confident about our relationship to let him discourage me. "Look, this is ridiculous. You said you were still her friend; can't you just be happy for her?"

"I want her back. And you are in my way."

"I'm willing to step aside if you think you have a chance," I rolled my eyes. I wanted to tell him to grow up, but I didn't want to start anything over her. Aside from the fact I knew she wouldn't appreciate it, I didn't mean to stoop to his level. Instead, I shot him a cold glare of my own. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have too much to do at home before tomorrow."

He said something else, but it was unintelligible. I didn't look back when I got in the car, started it and drove away from there.

I tried to keep that conversation out of my mind as I got ready for the party that afternoon. I dressed in a haste, slipping into my favorite dark jeans and throwing on a bright blue dress shirt I got from Alice for my birthday. I must have done something right because Alice nodded her approval as soon as she saw me. Listening to her telling Emmett about how I started noticing my appearance since I'd started seeing Bella was somehow better than thinking of my earlier exchange with Jacob Black. I was already settled on not telling Bella about it – not tonight, anyway. She had enough on her mind with getting ready for tomorrow, and I didn't want to add on unnecessary stress.

And then, when people began to arrive, I had no option _but_ keeping it out of my mind. Emmett and I had always tried to make it easier on our mom as much as we could after she'd been working all week to get this party going. I immersed myself completely in showing people in, taking jackets, mingling and answering people's queries about how school was going, all the while staying close to Emmett or Alice to make sure I'd be kept distracted.

It wasn't until I happened to catch sight of Emmett's wrist watch that I realized Bella should have been here by then. The party had officially started at six thirty, and she said she would be coming back around six to help. It was almost seven now, and there was no sign of her. I craned my neck and looked around us, but none of those people was her.

Emmett, whose eyes followed mine, rolled his eyes. "Chill, dude. Have a drink. She knows her way."

"She almost missed the turn this morning. Maybe she actually did miss it now. And it's getting dark, I don't want her to – "

"Geez, Edward, cut her some slack," Alice, calm and careless, cut me off, shoving a drink into my hand. "She'll be fine."

"Fine," I said, sulking. "But if she's not here in half an hour, I'm going out to look for her."

"Who knew he was so domineering?" Emmett muttered, shaking his head towards Alice, who nodded.

"I _know_. You _think_ you know a person…"

"Umm, guys? Still here," I pointed out, tossing my drink over my head. This was when I heard the growl of an engine, somehow louder than the constant babble in the backyard. My glass nearly crashed on the floor if it wasn't for Emmett's quick save.

"Oh man, listen to that junk! I bet she wakes the entire neighborhood when she drives it at night!" He roared with laughter at his own remark as he handed me the glass he'd just saved.

I scoffed and stuck the glass back in his hand with an attempted glare. He just laughed. I sighed and headed to the front door, ignoring their nasty comments that led my way.

It had always made me laugh how tiny and fragile she looked inside the cab of that massive truck. But at the same time, I couldn't imagine her driving anything else. She was just pulling into an empty parking space when I hopped over the front stairs towards her. She stalled for a few moments, which I found odd. Then she caught sight of me in her rearview mirror, shook her head, and climbed out. As soon as she did, I halted.

It was the second time I'd seen her in a dress. This one was different than the one she wore for her mother's wedding. Layers of mint green fabric fell onto one another and ended at her knees, making her look taller than she actually was. There was a bow in the middle of it, slightly darker than the color of the dress. Her hair was held back by two hairpins, one on each side. It tumbled down her back in waves. A tiny grin curled on her lips as I took it all in.

"Bella… wow." I felt so lame. _Wow_ obviously couldn't cover it. There was so much more I wanted to say, but for a moment, I lost my way with words. I reached out for her. She put her hand in mine and I pulled her closer. "I was getting worried. Did you miss the turn?" I asked, kissing her lightly on the cheek.

"What? Umm, yes. I did."

I tensed. Something wasn't quite right. Her gaze was unfocused, her voice slightly distant. I did a quick overview just to make sure. She was there in body, but her mind was elsewhere. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just a little cold," she replied, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Come here." I replaced her arms with mine and held her. She was shivering, although it wasn't that cold, really. Did something happen on her way here? Was she involved in an accident or something? I tried not to panic. "Where's your sweater?"

"I remembered halfway here that I forgot it."

"Let's find you something in my room." I kept one arm around her as I led the way back into the house, and upstairs. It was much quieter there, thankfully. Our steps echoed down the hall. She didn't leave my side, but she replied all my questions with one word answers, all the while with that same distant tone.

She walked passed me as I held my bedroom door open for her. I couldn't help but stare at the way her dressed moved about her, the way her hair danced against her back, a nice contrast to the airy green fabric. I forced myself to snap out of it, and walked to my closet. I found what I'd been looking for quickly; I meant to return it to her today anyway. It was her cream-colored cardigan, the only cashmere item she owned, according to her. She let Alice borrow it a few nights ago when we all went out, and never got a chance to take it back. I remembered it while finishing up my packing, but forgot to mention it that morning.

I held it out for her and she slipped her arms into the sleeves. "Thanks," she murmured.

"I've got something for you," I said, hoping to distract her. She turned to face me with silent question in her dark eyes. I opened a drawer on my nightstand and took out the small velvet bag I hid there. I was familiar with her reluctance to receive gifts, but seeing it in the Port Angeles fair a few weeks ago made me think of her, so I thought it was worth the risk. I didn't plan on giving it to her before we were settled in New York, but there was something she wasn't telling me, something that was making her upset. It was our last day home. Her mood had to be corrected.

She followed me with her eyes as I took out the necklace I got her. Her gaze lingered on the locket – a silver thread crisscrossing as delicately as a spider web to create a sort of heart shaped shell. "You're a few weeks too early," she said, holding up her hair as I fastened it around her neck.

"It's not your birthday gift," I replied, leading her to the mirror. I wrapped my arms around her waist and leaned my chin on her shoulder, watching the way the silver glimmered against her pallid skin. "It's good practice for you though, so you won't throw a fit when I do get you something for your birthday."

Her smile was tight and aloof, but what worried me more was that she didn't throw a fit over _this_ gift like I'd expected. If I needed any more confirmations, this was it. Something was wrong.

"What's the matter?" I looked straight ahead, addressing her reflection. I didn't take my eyes off it. A flicker of emotion crossed her eyes, but before I could question it further, a knock came on the door. "Come in," I said, reluctantly letting go of her as Alice waltzed into the room.

"I _knew_ you'd be hiding up here," she mock-accused me, prancing forward to kiss Bella's cheek. Then she turned to beam at me. "Doesn't she look _gorgeous_? She picked the dress all by herself – so proud of you, girlfriend!" Then she halted, and her forehead creased when she did a double take. "But what's with the granny's sweater?"

"I was cold," Bella shrugged.

A dramatic sigh escaped Alice's lips as she shook her head. "What am I going to _do_ with you?"

"Did you want something, Alice?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"Esme was wondering where you were, so I said I'd check. Better me than Emmett!" she giggled. I stole a glance at Bella. Her smile seemed less strained now. Maybe I was overreacting earlier. Maybe Alice and Emmett were right. I _was_ getting possessive. Besides, if it was serious, she would have told me.

We followed Alice downstairs. I reached for Bella's hand as soon as Alice had her back to us. She was still trying to convince Bella to get rid of the sweater, which Bella insisted to keep on as the temperatures were dropping now it was nearly dark out. Alice claimed that beauty meant self sacrifices, even if the sacrifice was pneumonia. Bella contradicted her, saying that normally she wouldn't mind it, but not so close to the beginning of the semester. Alice's verdict was that Emmett was right. She was beyond geeky. I couldn't help but grin at their banter. I was so happy they got along so well. I was afraid Alice's initial intervention would throw Bella off a bit, but fortunately she wasn't one for grudges. And she seemed perfectly fine now. Whatever had bothered her earlier seemed to be forgotten.

I was listening absentmindedly to something Alice was saying about one of the caterers, when her speech suddenly turned into a deafening squeal. "Oh my _God_!" she shrieked, and charged down the stairs. There wasn't much to do but stare after her. She was like one of those super fast cartoon characters, the ones who leave dust behind when they're gone. One moment she was there next to us, and the next she was launching herself on someone twice her size. I squinted, and blinked. He couldn't be…

"I'm not the only one who is late for the party."

Bella's voice startled me. I tore my gaze from Alice and Jasper and turned to gape at her. "You knew he was coming?"

She nodded, looking unusually smug. "He wanted to surprise her and he knew I'd spend a lot of time here." It was the longest sentence she said since she got here.

The moment Alice noticed us approach, she untangled herself from Jasper and mock-glowered at Bella. "I thought we were through with keeping secrets."

"I thought you'd enjoy this particular one," Bella replied, the sweetest smile curling on her lips. "But it was my last one. Promise."

"I can't believe you actually got here without getting lost," I laughed, shaking Jasper's hand. "People who live here longer than you do can barely make it," I added, grinning at Bella. She stuck her tongue in reply.

"It was tough. Those forests are _huge_; it's not a landscape I'm used to. Half an hour longer and they would have sent a search party after me," Jasper laughed as he wrapped one arm around Alice. "Was worth it though."

"Come on, I want you to meet my other cousin!" Alice exclaimed, tugging at his arm. She towed him forward and shouted she'd catch up with us later.

"I wonder…" Bella's voice, soft and sort of contemplative now, made me tear my gaze from my cousin. "It means Emmett is going to be busy now, doesn't it?"

"Probably," I agreed, uncertain where she was going with her query. "Why?"

"Because," she replied, pouting, and inched closer. "I haven't said hi to you properly yet." She didn't give me a chance to respond when she stood on tiptoes to kiss me. Kissing her back was instinctive. I was surprised when she didn't pull away, but pressed herself closer against me. It was as if she didn't care we weren't alone, but in the middle of a crowded room full of people who were mostly unknown to her. The fact they were mostly known to me didn't stop me from returning her kiss. I was just relieved that she was okay.

"Thank you for my necklace," she whispered once we pulled away. She stayed very close, laying her arms across my chest. She raised her eyes to mine and smiled. "I love it."

"You're welcome. I told you, I'm just relieved you weren't throwing a fit. If you actually like it, it's just a bonus." Blush crept onto her cheeks and I smiled. Yes, she was perfectly fine now.

xoxox

Bella wanted to say hi to my parents, so we went out looking for them before we joined Alice and Jasper, who were standing with Emmett across the lawn. I didn't know where Rose was, but I knew her parents had just arrived a while ago, so I assumed she was spending time with them. Jasper and Emmett seemed to be getting along well. When he was excited about something, Emmett was speaking with his hands. He was doing a lot of that now. I could bet he discovered they liked the same football team or something. When we joined them, there was the predictable teasing about where we'd disappeared to and why. I feared it would drag Bella back to the gloominess with which she'd appeared, but luckily it didn't. On the contrary. She seemed to be enjoying herself now. And she seemed content enough to stay in the circle of my arms.

Throughout the evening I noticed people noticing her. It was a small town, and everyone had obviously heard in one way or another about Charlie Swan's daughter who was coming to live here. I didn't think she realized the amount of attention she attracted. I didn't think she even realized how breathtaking she looked in that dress. Girls stared at her in envy; guys – with lust. I held her tighter at that realization.

"For someone who doesn't like being in the center of attention, this was a very bold decision," I smiled, brushing a finger over the one of the dress' straps just beneath her sweater. My smile widened when her cheeks washed bright pink.

"No one is watching me," she contradicted, but her eyes flew around us despite herself. We were standing at the farthest end of the garden, seeing but unseen, half hidden in the shadows.

I shook my head, tracing my finger to her cheek. "You must be blind then." I let my finger linger, watching her as she began to shake her head in disagreement, but then at once she tensed as her eyes settled on something over my shoulder. "What?"

"This man over there is staring at me," she whispered, sounding more frightened than embarrassed, as she nodded in the direction her eyes were set. She half hid behind me and I could feel her fists clawing at the back of my shirt as I turned to have a better look with her peeking from over my shoulder. We were standing off the garden lighting so it was darker, and harder to see, so I had to squint to have a better look at him.

Our eyes met, and he nodded a wordless greeting.

"Do you know him?" she asked, sounding genuinely surprised by the familiarity he'd just displayed.

I returned my grandfather's nod, and reached for her hand. "Come on, I'd like you to meet someone."

Ever since our conversation a few months ago, things had become better. He was doing his best to keep up with Emmett and me. He even attended one of the concerts Rosalie performed in. In return, we all made efforts to pay him the respect he now deserved. He'd known all about Bella, but he'd never seen her until now. I didn't say anything as I led the way towards him. This would be his final test, I decided.

"I didn't see you arrive," I told him as he patted my back. He'd always done that, as if he thought Emmett and I were too old for a kiss.

"You were busy. I didn't want to interrupt," he replied, glancing at Bella with what seemed like curiosity. There wasn't a hint of apprehension in his stare. "Hello."

"Grandpa, this is Bella Swan." My voice trembled ever so slightly. Never in my wildest dreams had I thought I'd get to introduce them. "Bella, this is my grandfather, Robert Cullen."

Her eyes widened just an inch as her gaze flickered from him to me. I sort of held my breath until he took her hand. "So you're the girl who changed my grandson's life," he said, actually smiling at her. Her cheeks flared beneath his gaze. "I've heard so much about you."

"Alice," I muttered. It was enough of an explanation. Luckily, it made her laugh.

And as if she somehow had a sixth sense, Alice was suddenly there. "Sushi emergency, I need you, honey. Oh, hi Gramps," she said, skipping forward to drop a kiss on his cheek. Then she tugged on Bella's arm and unceremoniously towed her into the crowd. Bella threw me an apologetic look from over her shoulder. I shook my head, dismissing it. Someone really had to name a hurricane after Alice.

I looked back at him expectantly, waiting for a sarcastic remark, but he just smiled at me. "I always knew the Cullen boys had good taste. She's lovely." I couldn't do much but gawk at him. He noticed, and laughed softly. "I'm not going to do the same mistake I had with your brother," he said. "I've been watching the two of you since I got here. There's something really special between the two of you. I don't think anyone has the right to doubt it."

Although I'd managed to avoid thinking about my conversation with Jacob earlier, my grandfather's comment made it resurface. But I didn't have a chance to ponder over it when he started asking me about our return to New York, and how we were going to get along in Emmett and Rosalie's apartment.

"Maybe this year I'll be able to make it to one of your school recitals," he said.

"I'll love that," I smiled. That was it. As far as I was concerned, he was one of the good guys again.

xoxox

The rest of the party went by in a blur. When Bella was back, we spent some time with my grandfather again before Emmett came by and all but carried her to the dance floor. She looked so tiny in his arms that for a moment I feared for her, but then I saw her giggle at something he said, and instantly calmed down. When I watched her dance with my brother, so unusually carefree, I couldn't help feeling optimistic.

"I think everything is going to be okay," I told Alice, who was surprisingly not on the dance floor. She and Jasper stood next to me, sort of swaying to the music without actually dancing to it.

Alice's gaze followed my own. "I _told_ you I saw her in your future. Your only job now is to keep her there because I'm going to have enough work trying to reeducate the two of you about fashion."

She didn't give me a chance to come up with a proper backfire. She pulled Jasper's arm and led him to the dance floor, sticking her tongue at me as they settled next to Emmett and Bella. She left Jasper for a second to whisper something in Bella's ear. In the next second their eyes were on me, and Bella's lips curled in a smile as she nodded in reply to whatever Alice had said. Emmett kissed the back of her hand as he slowly released her. He yelled something like "All yours, little bro!" as she began to walk towards me, still with that smile on her lips.

"Dance with me," was all she said, before I could even question what was so funny.

I'd never danced in my family's party; unless Alice forced me, of course, or Jessica, when she was still in the picture. When Bella asked, refusing her seemed more damage inflicting than the risk of me taking the floor. I wondered if the exchange with Alice was some sort of a bet, but didn't linger on it. I placed my hand in hers and let her lead me to the floor, further away from the place my brother and cousin were dancing. It seemed safe to ask it now. "What did Alice tell you?"

"That I could never get you to dance." She flashed me a small victorious smile. "I think I just proved her wrong."

I looked from over her shoulder. Alice was watching us with this huge grin on her lips. I rolled my eyes and held Bella tighter. She leaned her head against my chest and I could feel her sigh. I wasn't sure what it meant at first. Her arms around my neck tightened ever so slightly, as if she was holding on to something. She'd always done it when she was afraid, I noticed. An alarm bell went off in my head. She seemed fine throughout the evening, but I couldn't help thinking of the shape she'd been in when she got here. She'd been able to hide her distress quite well, but now that it was just the two of us, the controlled façade seemed to be slipping away from her.

"You didn't really think you could fool me, did you?" I asked gently, giving her waist a tiny squeeze.

She knew exactly what I was talking about, apparently, because her cheeks were pink when she looked up at me. "I kind of hoped you'd either forget about it or let it go," she replied, smiling sheepishly.

I returned her smile, but only to get her attention. Once I did, I locked my gaze with hers. "Tell me what's wrong," I pleaded.

She sighed, as if with reluctance. Although I hadn't pressed her a second time, I kept my eyes intent on hers until she yielded. "I wasn't late because I missed the turn," she said after a moment. Her voice wasn't higher than a whisper. "I was late because Jacob came to see me."

My heart stopped, and resumed its beating slightly faster than normal. I was sure she could feel it hammering in my chest, but if she did, she didn't comment. "What did he want?" I asked casually.

"He told me he broke up with Leah."

A slight twist of the facts, I thought bitterly. I didn't have a chance to ponder it when her next words hit me.

"He wants us to get back together."

I forced myself to keep moving, not to halt in the middle of the dance floor, not to make a scene. Her statement remained hanging there between us. I couldn't help but wonder if I hadn't misinterpreted her reaction. Maybe she had a whole different reason to be upset. Thinking back of everything she said and did that evening, the way she kissed me and looked at me and got me to dance with her, all as if it was the last time…

I felt as if someone had punched me hard in the stomach. Only a few hours ago I was so confident in front of Jacob. What a fool.

"I just…" she sighed again, and shook her head, still with this deep sadness in her stare. "Some of the things he said… I don't know. I couldn't get them out of my head. So much so that I nearly did miss the turn." She flashed me a sad smile; I struggled to return it. My mind was a mess. "Everything is so… clear now, you know? Like what he said actually opened my eyes. I can't believe how different he seems to me now. I guess it's better late than never though, right?"

"Right," I echoed, searching her eyes for any hint, anything that would assure me this wasn't happening. It was just a bad dream or something. She wasn't actually doing this. She wasn't really leaving me. "Is this goodbye then?" I forced the words out, although each was a dagger to my heart. I held her a little tighter, hoping to prolong the separation.

"I think it must be," she replied gravely, but didn't try to pull back. "I can't do this knowing this is how he feels."

Every word stung. Those words were meant for me in an early point of our relationship. Then it gave me hope. Now… it wasn't great fun to be on the other end. "I guess it's going to be impossible to try and convince you to change your mind," I half said, half asked, holding on to final hope.

"Change my mind?" she echoed incredulously, looking downright outraged by the idea. "Oh, no. We're through." The finality of the words, her tone, the flash of anger in her eyes – it was all too much. Somehow she didn't see me wince. "I really wish it didn't have to end like this. I kind of hoped we could still be friends, but I don't think I can even do that."

My world was slowly but systematically falling apart. "If you think it's best."

"My dad is going to be so upset with me," she sighed, clearly troubled.

I couldn't help but smile wryly. I didn't know why I still felt the need to protect her, why I still cared. "Don't worry, I'm sure he won't be upset with you. You're doing exactly what he wants."

"Hardly," she snorted. "I'm moving in with you, aren't I?"

I was so taken aback by the question that for a moment, I didn't understand she meant it rhetorically. She blinked, as if she saw something in my expression, and a hint of insecurity flickered in her eyes.

"I _am_ moving in with you, right? Unless you know something I don't and you're planning to break up with me tonight?" She laughed sort of nervously towards the end.

I couldn't do much, but stare at her. Would she really be as cruel as making such a joke right now? Maybe she didn't know what she was saying. Maybe Emmett had slipped something in her drink when I wasn't looking.

"What?" she asked as if she saw something in my perplexed gaze that threw her off.

"Bella, you just…" It was my turn to laugh nervously. For a second, I wasn't sure how to continue. "You just broke up with _me_."

"I just what?" She stared at me wide eyed. I shrugged. I knew what I heard. She didn't say anything for a second, just kept searching for something in my face. Then a grin slowly curled on her lips as she shook her head. "Edward," she said slowly, as if her words were still catching up on some unuttered thought. "I was talking about how there's no way I could stay friends with Jacob after what he'd said to me. How the hell did you get that as me breaking up with you?"

I gawked at her, dumbfounded. For a moment I was speechless. I felt like the biggest fool, and the luckiest fool at that. I still had her. Relief was overwhelming. "I'm… not sure now."

She was smiling openly now, and I felt like kicking myself for doubting her. Her arms tightened around my neck as she stood on tiptoes. I could feel how she was leaning against me, supporting most of her weight on my chest. "Silly," she murmured lowly next to my ear. "I love you too much. I'm not going anywhere. I don't _want_ to go anywhere if you're not there."

"Yo, lovebirds!" Emmett hollered, literally across the floor. I was too lost in her stare to look over my shoulder and glare at him. "Keep this party G-rated, will you?"

"Do you hear anything?" she whispered, and there was laughter in her eyes as they were locked on mine.

"Absolutely nothing," I replied, my fingers fluttering on her chin as I brought her closer for a kiss. And there laid all the confirmation I needed. She was mine. She wasn't going anywhere. I wouldn't _let_ her go anywhere; not if I couldn't follow.

**

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**

A/N: as promised, the good news is… there's a sequel on the way! I'm currently working on it, but since I finally have a job, my progress is slower than I hoped. I'll post the first chapter as soon as I can, so keep an eye on those alerts! In the meantime, check out the gorgeous banner Mizra made for it, and here's the sequel's summary, just to make sure you check back:

3 years after _If You Were Mine_: Things between Edward and Bella can't get more perfect. But what happens when Bella gets the chance of a lifetime and must choose between her love and her career?

**Thanks again, everyone! Happy New Year! See you all very soon x**


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